His Mothers' Son
by ForForever19
Summary: Years after the death of his mother, Luke Berry-Fabray finds a journal of letters written to him, detailing the highs and lows of Rachel and Quinn's journey into parenthood. 2-Part Future AU.
1. Restless

**Disclaimer**: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**AN**: I think, at this point, I'm going to have to write an actual story about Quinn being an FBI Agent, just to satisfy my headcanon. I'm sorry in advance.

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**Part One**

**Restless**

* * *

There's no sound of music.

It's the first thing he notices when he steps through the doors of the _old _new house, intent on officially calling it a day and curling up with his wife in front of the television.

But, there's no music.

There is _always_ music.

Luke Berry-Fabray steps through the front door and gently shuts it behind him. As quietly as he can, he sets his shoulder bag on the ground and takes cautious steps forward, absently reaching for the baseball bat leaning against the wall beside the coat closet.

Silence is never a good sign in this particular Berry-Fabray household.

"Mia?" he calls out, gripping the bat tightly as he stalks through the entrance hall. "Mia? Honey, are you home?" Luke has to bypass several still-unpacked boxes as he moves further into the house. "Mia?"

"Up here."

Luke's eyes snaps upwards and he spots his wife at the top of the stairs. She's dressed in baggy sweatpants and a Juilliard sweatshirt. She's barefoot, with her strawberry blonde hair in a messy bun.

Really, he doesn't think she's ever looked more beautiful.

"Amelia May," Luke says, setting the bat back in position. "Crazy girl, what are you trying to do to my heart?"

"Come up here," she says, bouncing slightly.

Luke peels off his jacket and drops it onto a box marked for the kitchen. He isn't even going to question what it's still doing in the entrance hall. "Why is it so quiet in here?" he asks, as he makes his way towards the stairs. He climbs them two at a time, reaching her in less than five seconds.

"I didn't even notice," she just manages to say, before she's being lifted off the ground and spun around. "Luke!" she squeals, gripping his shoulders to keep herself steady.

He's quick to set her back on the ground, his grin contagious. He gives her a chaste '_Honey, I'm home_' kiss before looking around. "What are you doing up here, anyway?"

Mia drops her gaze for a moment. "Well, you see, when I was speaking to your Mom earlier, she may have mentioned there were a few things in the attic she wanted to get from us."

Luke frowns. "The attic?"

"That's the room in the roof of a house," she teases.

Luke raises his eyebrows in amused indignation. "I know what an attic is," he says, clearly unimpressed. "What could possibly be up there?"

"My thought exactly," she says, removing herself from his embrace and starting down the corridor. "I've kind of been up there since I got off the phone with Quinn, and I found some pretty amazing things."

Luke has no choice but to follow her. At this point in his life, he would follow her just about anywhere. "What kinds of things?"

"Notes. Journals. Pictures," she informs him. "I even found some of your old artwork."

Luke groans. "Oh, God, please no."

"Oh, yes," she sing-songs.

"I'll burn them, you know?"

"You'll do no such thing," she shoots back, looking at him over her shoulder. "You'd break Quinn's heart."

"What heart?" he mutters under his breath.

At the sound of that, Mia stops walking immediately and spins to look at him, fire burning in her eyes as she fixes him with a hard look. "You take that back, right now," she practically growls at him.

He sighs, dropping his gaze guiltily. "Fine," he mumbles. "But, she's said nothing to me about the news," he says, trying to justify his comment. "I mean, other than giving us this house; it's like she doesn't even care."

Mia frowns at him, resisting the urge to swat the back of his head. Because, seriously, boys are idiots. "Of course, she cares," she says. "It's just hard for her."

"What? What is so hard, when it's happening to _us_?"

"But it's not _just_ happening to us, Luke," she counters gently, because he's obviously struggling with something else entirely. "I'm sure Quinn didn't want to be a single mother, and it's probably even more daunting being a single _grand_mother."

Luke lets out a long breath. "It's about _her_, then?"

Mia lays a hand on his chest. "Isn't it always?"

He puts a hand over hers, pressing her fingers against him. "I'm not really mad," he admits. "I mean, I was, but I'm not anymore. I just wish she'd been more excited."

Mia almost rolls her eyes. "When has your mother ever been _excited_?"

"I don't know," he says, shrugging. "Right now, _you_ know her better than I do."

She lets out a light laugh. "Maybe we should have her over for dinner before we throw our housewarming party next weekend," she suggests. "It could also be that she feels as if you're just growing up so fast, and she doesn't know how to handle it."

"You're making it sound as if I _just_ left the house," he comments dryly.

"And, was Quinn excited about that?"

Luke doesn't need to think back. Even at the time, he knew his mother didn't wanted him to go on his year-long trip around the world after graduation from high school, but she put a smile on her face and gave her blessing regardless.

As she did when Luke told her he's about to become a father for the first time.

"Do you think she's worried _for_ me?" Luke eventually asks, his voice coming out as barely a whisper. "Because, she's never really thought she was a good mom, but she was great. _She still is_."

"The two of you definitely have to talk about it," Mia concludes, before she grabs hold of his hand. "Now, come on, there are things I want to show you."

Luke allows her to pull him along, and he follows her up the ladder and into the large attic of the house in which he grew up. It spans the entirety of the house, and he can't even recall the last time he was up here. Probably when he was still a preteen.

It isn't as dusty in the attic as he imagines it would be, which is a pleasant surprise. Does that mean his mother has been in here recently? His eyes follow Mia as she heads towards one corner, where several boxes are now open.

"I found this box of old books," Mia informs him. "I thought they were your standard textbooks, but they're not. On the inside covers, they all say: _Property of Rachel Berry_."

Luke's breath catches in his throat. Even just hearing her name still affects him.

"They're all sorts of books," Mia goes on to explain, dropping to her knees and peering into the box. "All sorts of novels, old and new texts, and quite a few baby books, which actually say Rachel Berry-Fabray. She must have done a lot of reading during her pregnancy."

Luke just blinks, trying and failing to keep up with his wife.

"Are you even listening?" Mia asks, glancing at him.

Luke snaps out of his trance and looks down at her. It's been a long time since he's heard his other mother's actual name. Even Quinn doesn't use it.

When she's conscious, at least.

Or sober.

"Luke?"

He starts towards her, and kneels at her side. "You said something about journals?"

Mia points to a pile of notebooks to her right. "They're early ones," she says. "I didn't read anything; I just looked at the dates."

He places a gentle hand at the small of her back. "It's okay," he says softly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I know what she means to you," she says. "I've never wanted to overstep."

"It's okay," he says again, and he means it. He _wants_ his wife to know the woman who gave birth to him.

Mia returns her attention to the box, while Luke shuffles around her to get to the small pile of journals. He already has several of his other mother's journals in his possession, though they were mainly from around the time she attended NYADA.

It's one of the only ways he's been able to learn of the life his other mother once lived.

Once he reaches the pile, he settles with his legs crossed and his back straight. Perfect posture is something that's been ingrained into him since he was a toddler, drilled into him by both his mothers.

Finally satisfied with his position, he reaches for a random journal, absently noting that this one was started in September of 2011, while his parents were still in school.

Luke can't stop his smile. He would know Rachel Berry-Fabray's handwriting just about anywhere and, as much as he's tempted, he doesn't actually start to read. He's resolved to locate the earliest journal first, and then begin to go through all of them from there.

"Oh," Mia says, getting his attention.

"Oh, what?" he asks, looking up.

She's staring at the first page of a foreign notebook; something he wouldn't recognise. "Umm, this one is from 2021."

He frowns. "What?"

"2021, Luke," she repeats. "This journal is from 2021."

"That's not possible," he says, shuffling back towards her. "Her journals stop when they got married. She even says so in her last journal. She said it was her last."

"Do you mind?" Mia asks, seeking permission to open the notebook.

"Go ahead," he says, moving so he's kneeling behind her, peering over her shoulder.

_2nd November 2021_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_It's your mother here. _

_Today, this day, the second of November, is the day I found out you're going to exist. You are, in fact, the first one to know. I haven't even told either of my dads, let alone Quinn._

_I suppose I'm still in a bit of shock. Don't misunderstand me; I'm thrilled. We've been trying for a while now - please be old enough to understand what that means by the time you read this - and so I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it's finally happening._

_We're having a baby. _

_We're having _you_._

_If I'm being honest - and I intend to be - I don't know why I've decided to write this letter to you. I haven't written for some time now, and I stand by the reasons I stopped. Sometimes, I felt as if I spent too much time writing my life down rather than living it, but I intend to write to you. _

_This won't be the last letter, that's for sure._

_I do hope you won't find it too strange when you're older. I suppose I just want you to know I've loved you from the moment I found out about you; from the moment we decided we were ready to bring a baby into this world._

Luke stops reading with an actual gasp, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. "It's not a journal," he whispers. "It's a letter."

"To you."

"To me," he agrees, sitting back on his heels as if he's just had the wind knocked out of him.

Mia closes the notebook and turns to look at him. "Are you all right?"

He shakes his head, but he doesn't speak.

"Oh, baby," Mia says, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'm sorry. Maybe we shouldn't have come up here."

"No," he says, offering her a small smile. "It's okay. I'm okay."

Mia shakes her own head, before she struggles to her feet. "Come on," she says. "Let's go make dinner. Baby Berry-Fabray is starving."

Luke blinks.

_Baby Berry-Fabray_.

Mia doesn't wait for a response from him as she pulls him to his feet and leads the way out of the attic. He makes sure she gets down the ladder safely before he follows her down, and then further down and into the kitchen.

Mia intends to keep him occupied, and cooking dinner together is one way of doing it. He's definitely distracted, but she makes no verbal comment on it.

He is, unfortunately, a lot like Quinn that way.

The silent type.

A brooder.

Mia knows he'll talk to her about it all only when he's good and ready.

* * *

After they eat dinner, Mia offers to do the dishes, and Luke disappears up the stairs.

She doesn't follow him when she finishes, choosing rather to put on some music and relax in the living room with a book. She knows he'll let her know if he needs her.

Luke, meanwhile, is back in the attic. He suspects Mia knows exactly where he is, but he also knows she's going to leave him be for now. It's the beauty of being married to someone who understands him in every way. His actual other half.

He heads straight towards the _one_ journal.

If it even is a journal.

He sits with the notebook, bringing his knees up to his chest and starts to read from where he and Mia left off.

_But a person is never really ready, are they? When Sam and Mercedes had Phillip, I remember them being overwhelmed by just how much work a baby actually is. The first night we babysat for them, I was exhausted. And it was for only a few hours._

_I'm worried, and a little scared. I'm only twenty-seven after all. What do I know?_

_Okay, I know a lot, about obscure things mainly, but I don't know how to be a mother, and I've never really had someone show me. What if I'm bad at it? What if we're about to bring this baby into the world, only to ruin him or her? I wonder if this is what every new almost-parent feels._

_Shall I tell you how I found out about you? It's a rather odd story, involving Finn and his favourite mashed potatoes. Oh, how he loves his mash. _

_I'm normally a fan as well._

_Anyway, I was having lunch with him, Kurt and their mother, Carole, today. Quinn was still on her way from New York, and I was over at their house here in Lima for a quick meal before I had to drive to Columbus to pick her up from the airport. We make it a point to make it back to Lima at least once a month, just to see the family and unwind from the hustle and bustle of New York._

_So, we were having mashed potatoes. I haven't been feeling that well this whole week, and then just THOSE potatoes. I felt so sick and ended up throwing up on Finn. God, it was awful._

_If Baby Berry-Fabray ends up a girl; I'm terribly sorry. Life is hard as a girl. And, if you do end up a boy, please bear that in mind. Be kind to us._

_(Prior to that, though, there was the laundry room. Can you believe it? The laundry detergent. I couldn't stomach it. Quinn told me it was just the normal one we always use, but it made me throw up.)_

_So, when I mentioned it all to Carole, she made a teasing comment that I might be pregnant. _

_We all laughed._

_I'm still laughing._

_On my way home, I couldn't stop thinking about what Carole said. I've never really been all that regular - if you know what that means - but I decided to take a test anyway. I just stopped at a gas station and I bought seven tests._

_All of them were positive._

_And, so, here we are. I'm going to be a mother, provided everything goes to plan. We're going to be parents. And, as frightening as that is, I'm so happy. I actually can't wait._

_I can't wait for you to get here, so I can meet you._

_But I should probably tell Quinn now, shouldn't I? Sometimes, I get the feeling she's almost forgotten we've been trying - it's been a few months. But, she asks me from time to time, how I'm feeling. I know she wants a family of her own, and I'm literally giddy that I get to give her one. Because of that, I'm thinking I want to announce it to her in a special way._

_Any ideas? How would you want her to find out about you? I'll have to think about it. We'll have to get creative. _

_I'll keep you posted about her reaction. I'm excited for it. She might even cry._

_But, don't you worry, Baby Berry-Fabray. You just enjoy your time in there, all right? I'll take care of you._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

_P.S. I'm your mother. Oh wow, I'm your _mother_. Pinch me._

Luke finishes with the letter and is surprised to find Mia sitting in the attic's hatch, her feet dangling down into the corridor.

"Hey, you," he says, blinking. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"You're crying, Luke," she says, ignoring his question.

His left hand flies up to his cheeks and, indeed, he feels the tears. "Oh."

"I think you should come downstairs now," she says, her tone gentle. "Mrs Berry-Fabray is missing her husband."

Luke waits a beat before he rises to his feet and makes his way towards her, the notebook carefully tucked under his arm.

"I love you, Lucas Berry-Fabray," she says, before she disappears through the hatch.

He follows her down and lifts the ladder, closing the hatch off to the rest of the house.

It's as if he's closing off the journals, as well.

Closing off the past; closing off the painful loss of the mother he can't even remember.

* * *

Luke doesn't get back to the notebook until much later.

Mia crawls into bed first, while Luke moves through the house, making sure everything is locked up and secure. They were robbed twice while they stayed in their one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, and Mia is still paranoid.

Luke knows they aren't in danger here; in the house his parents bought when they first decided they wanted a family, but he'll do anything he can to make sure his wife feels safe and comfortable.

Quinn was able to teach him that much without even having a wife to show him.

By the time Luke makes it to their new master bedroom, Mia is already asleep, her one leg encroaching on his side of the bed. She gets tired much easier these days, and he finds it utterly adorable that she can fall asleep _anywhere_, and actually _does_.

He stands over their bed, spying the now-famous journal on his nightstand. He wants to read more. He's almost desperate to find out what more she wrote.

Because, there is more in there.

If he knows anything about his other mother, it's that she loved her words.

The same way she loved music.

The same way _he_ does, as well.

As silently as he can, Luke picks up the journal and leaves the room, making sure he doesn't close the door completely, in case Mia wakes. He makes his way down the corridor, until he comes to what was his bedroom when he was growing up.

It's exactly as he remembers it being when he left home for the final time the summer after he graduated from Juilliard. Sometimes, it feels like just yesterday, and, other times, it feels like a lifetime ago.

Luke enters the room and crosses to his bed, casually dropping down as if he never left. There are still football and baseball posters up on the walls, and sheets of music from his angsty teenage days pinned up on his noticeboards.

He eventually props himself up against his many pillows and, once again, brings his knees up to his chest. He rests the journal on his chest and knees, opens it up, and proceeds to read.

_15th November 2021_

_I was right!_

_Special Agent (Extraordinaire) Lucy Quinn Berry-Fabray dropped to her knees and cried tears when I finally told her about you. As much as I tried to come up with a really clever way of letting her know, it ended up falling a bit flat._

_See, today is our two-year wedding anniversary and, being who she is, Quinn decided to take me out for a romantic dinner. _

_After such a romantic _day_, actually. __She's a bit of a romantic, that one. I mean, I woke up to breakfast in bed and roses upon roses._

_As much as she tried to get me to skip work today, I couldn't. My audience needs me every day, and I'm sure she already knew her methods of trying to convince me wouldn't work. __She did, however, turn up at the theatre to watch the show, and then proceeded to whisk me away as soon as I stepped out of my dressing room after the performance. _

_She barely gave me time to get changed at home before we went to the restaurant. Until that point, I managed to avoid all her questions about the throwing up and the laundry detergent._

_But, then, there was the wine. _

_At home, I've been able to deflect and disguise my drinking, but, then, in the restaurant, I couldn't be conspicuous when it came to her - she's literally a trained investigator - and I was forced to tell her._

_And, right there, in that restaurant, she practically fell off her chair, buried her face in her hands and sobbed. From happiness, mind you. She drew so much attention to us; it should have been embarrassing, but I honestly didn't care._

_I anticipated her reaction, but it still surprised me. She was just so _happy_. It was as if her entire life built up to this very moment, and I was able to give it to her. I feel both privileged by and, well, afraid of it. I'm the one to give her everything she's ever wanted. _

_When you're in my position, you'll understand._

_Though, you better be of age and completely secure emotionally, physically and financially before you even consider having children. Are we clear? Good._

_Then she thanked me. _

_Repeatedly._

_I told her I want at least three children, to which she says she would give me anything I ever wanted. I swear, Baby Berry-Fabray, I don't think we could have found a better wife and mother. We're definitely lucky._

_We abandoned our meal after that. I'm sure, if you're old enough, you can guess why that was. She's asleep now, and I'm writing this letter at the little secretary desk we have in our bedroom. _

_It's this adorable thing we found in this neat little antique store on one of our lazy Sundays in Lower Manhattan, made of this wonderful, dark natural wood._

_Quinn put the desk in here because she claims she likes to watch me work. When I asked her why she then didn't put our little piano in our bedroom; she had no response._

_She's a bit of an odd one, this Quinn, but we love her. I suspect she just wanted to have me near her while I work, but she was too embarrassed to say so. Let's vow right now not to be afraid of our feelings, all right? (I can't help thinking about _Finding Nemo_ at this moment, and I'm not sure why. Fish have feelings, huh? I can't wait to experience it with you.)_

_Quinn would blush scarlet if I ever asked her to talk about her _feelings_._

_Anyway, I'm glad she knows. It's been difficult keeping it from her. We talked it out, and we've decided we're going to wait until you and I are past the first trimester before we break the news to the rest of the family. _

_It's apparently what people do, because many things can go wrong in the first few months._

_I'm trying not to think about that too much. I already told you not to worry. I'll take care of you._

_And, to do that, I should probably get to bed as well. I know I don't yet know you, but I do love you so, Baby Berry-Fabray. Without even being here, you're already bringing such joy to our lives. Don't worry about the tears. She cries when she's happy, otherwise you never know what she's feeling. The broody marshmallow._

_Don't you worry. I'll make sure she stays that way._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

This time around, Luke isn't surprised by the tears. This is his other mother, and it's as if she's _talking_ to him. He can practically hear her voice in his head, as he's sometimes sure he remembers it, and as he hears in the many songs and videos and films and television episodes at his disposal.

She left behind a discography and filmography that has allowed him to know her in ways he otherwise wouldn't.

She left behind a legacy.

He leans his head back and lets out a long breath, suddenly not sure he wants to keep reading.

Even as he thinks it, he knows he won't be able to stop now. He craves for anything and everything to do with his other mother.

He always has.

He just wants to be close to her.

_9th December 2021_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_We're officially past the first trimester. We made it. We did it._

_And, as a result, I had brunch with my Dad this morning, and I told him he's going to be a grandfather. He didn't cry, though he did come quite close. It was wonderful. I don't think I'll ever forget today._

_His face. His expression. I've accomplished numerous things in my life - I'm sure I'll LOVE to tell you, one day - but I've never seen that look of pride on his face before. I don't think I can explain it but maybe, one day, you'll be able to ask him. You're going to love him. He's great, though he can be terribly blunt._

_Hiram Berry doesn't beat around the bush. It's both a blessing and a curse to have such a father, I think. We've had fights, as you can imagine. Many. I'm even embarrassed to tell you, but you should remember that Quinn and I had to deal with some very different and difficult circumstances in our lives. Dad's never liked that we had to come from that, to get to here._

_God, I wouldn't even know what to do with myself if you ever do some of the things we did. I'd probably pull out my own hair. You better be well-behaved._

_Who am I kidding? You'll be a Berry-Fabray. You don't stand a chance._

_Speaking of, I also went to the doctor today with Dad here in Lima. I've been a little nervous about going into the Maternity Ward in New York, because, if people see me, the entire world is going to know there's a Baby Berry-Fabray on the way. _

_One of the drawbacks of being famous, you see._

_One of the perks, though, is having the doctor come to you._

_It's a relief to hear all is well, though, and we're both doing good. My baby is safe and healthy. It's still all I could have asked for._

_Quinn is leaving on a case to Arizona tomorrow. It should take between a week and ten days, which is the norm. She promises she'll be back for my birthday, but I'm not holding my breath. I get worried when she goes. She can be rather reckless, you see, and she's ended up at Mount Sinai one too many times for my comfort._

_I know I'll have to talk to her about being more careful, now that she's going to be a mother. I have no intention of raising you by myself. I'll probably end up ruining you if she wasn't around to curb my crazy._

_God, imagine Quinn by herself. I'm sure she would do well, but I intend on sticking around for a very long time. I might even refrain from sending you to school, and actually tutoring you myself. Would that drive you mad? I think it might._

Luke stops reading.

It's as if she knew.

Of course, she probably thought about it.

Maybe this is why she started these letters in the first place.

Anything could happen.

Anything _did_.

_I drove Quinn a little crazy after the first time she ended up in the hospital. It was a case early in her career, and she picked a fight with someone who didn't care she was a woman. Anyway, when she came home, I couldn't stand having her out of my sight, and we ended up having one of our worst fights to date. _

_When you meet her, I'm sure you'll understand why I constantly wanted her around. _

_It's something I always have to remind myself of. Quinn didn't necessarily choose this life - even I can admit it's kind of her calling to help people this way - but I chose her. _

_You, unfortunately, don't have that luxury, but you're just going to have to trust in my decision. There's nobody better for the two of us. If we're two. Dad might have mentioned his family has a knack of producing twins. I don't think I could handle two at once, at the first go._

_So, you better be just one. Our doctor didn't mention anything, so I'm not too worried. Twins would be better than triplets, I suppose, but I still think I would end up pulling out my own hair. _

_So, please be one. I quite like my hair. Quinn does too._

_I should get back to this song I'm in the middle of writing. It's about life and love (as is the usual) and I'm incredibly proud of what I have so far. I can't wait for you to hear it._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke's hand absently moves to run through his own hair. He can only imagine her anxiety at the possibility of more than one baby at the first go. He knows it's just the one for him and Mia, and even _that_ is stressing him out.

When he was younger, he used to wish desperately for a sibling of his own. Sure, his mother's friends all had children, but he wanted one of his own, and he used to pout and throw fits about it constantly.

He never understood whenever his mother used to laugh at the idea that _she_ could just make a baby like all the other Mommies and Daddies. Luke remembers laughing along right with her, even though the idea that you needed… something _more_ was still foreign to him.

His mother always did try to make him laugh, though.

It was only later in life that Luke realised it was mainly because he had his other mother's laugh, and Quinn would do anything to hear it.

At the time, Luke wasn't sure what to make of it.

In the end, he decided it didn't matter to him.

It did no harm, and it resulted in a very happy childhood for him. If his own child can have even half as happy a childhood as he had; then he'll be doing something right.

As he got older, Luke eventually lost the laugh, but his mother never ceased making sure he was always laughing; always forgetting his other mother was gone and would never be coming back.

It still makes him catch his breath whenever he thinks about it.

There's this entire woman he can't remember, but holds such a dear and large part of his heart. It devastates him that he never grew to know her the way all the people around him had.

He's jealous of them.

For years, Luke researched, asked questions, read journals and followed in the footsteps of this stranger of a woman who dedicated so much of her life to entertaining others. He tried to learn all he could about Rachel Berry-Fabray in every way he possibly could. It helped that she wrote journals, and his mother gave him access to them; wanting to share as much of her as she could.

_She_ was the reason he started playing piano in the first place.

She was the reason he did a lot of things, in fact. Whenever he was about to do something, she would pop into his head, and he would ask himself 'What would Rachel Berry-Fabray do?'

He's the successful man he is because of _both_ his parents, even if one of them left his life when he was barely fifteen months old.

Luke turns the page of the journal.

_19 December 2021_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_The clock on the wall says it's 02:23 in the morning. It's the day after my twenty-eighth birthday. I'm twenty-eight years old. It's scary. I've already lived so much life, but there's so much still to come._

Luke has to stop reading for a moment.

His heart hurts.

She should have lived such a long life. She had so much left to do; to give; to experience.

_I woke up to breakfast in bed from Kurt (ordered by Quinn), and I burst out crying. I've been an emotional mess all week, and I'm embarrassed to admit it's because I missed Quinn._

_I know. I know. Don't judge me. I spent a few nights with my parents because Quinn doesn't like it when I stay alone. As if I can't take care of myself._

_After working on some writing, I stopped by my parents' house for some tea, and then the three of us headed to the Hudson-Hummel house. Carole decided she was hosting my birthday dinner, and nobody was about to argue with her. _

_It was odd, though, celebrating without Quinn._

_It also didn't feel right telling them all about the baby without having her there, but I did it anyway. I didn't know how else to explain my not drinking. _

_Carole almost fell off her chair when I told her she was right when she joked about my being pregnant. You wouldn't be her first grandchild, so you'll have many cousins._

_Quinn wasn't there because her trip to Arizona kept her there for longer than expected, which was annoying. She did send her gift to the house, which was two tickets to the opera in New York for when we get back after our self-imposed Winter Break to Lima. _

_She just knows what I like, and I love that she would be willing to sit through something she doesn't quite enjoy just for me._

_So, I really didn't expect her to see her, and you can imagine my surprise when I came home from dinner at the Hudson-Hummel house to find none other than Special Agent (Berry-)Fabray waiting for me. I screamed and almost threw a punch, thinking she was an intruder._

_Let's just say we both ended up in heaps of laughter. She came home just in time to wish me happy birthday in person. It turns out the tickets to the opera weren't the real present._

_Well, besides her, it was actually a grand piano._ Steinway. _The most beautiful, perfect instrument I have ever seen. (As far as I can see in the picture, anyway, seeing as we're currently in Lima). _

_We're still in our Murray Hill apartment, which isn't that large, so the white beauty takes up majority of our living room. But I am NOT complaining. It could take the place of our bed, for all I care._

_She asked me to play for her when we get back. You can't yet hear the music but I intend to play for you when you can. I love to play, and she loves to watch me. We make quite the pair._

_And plus, playing piano is a lot safer than playing SPORT. You heard it here first, kid. Never forget._

_Anyway, she may have mentioned that she went a little AWOL, leaving her fellow agents on the case, just to see me. She's probably going to get a warning or something, but she claimed it was well worth it. The little charmer._

_She left ten minutes ago. I already miss her. Before you judge me - or possibly roll your eyes, which is a thing I love to do - you'll realise what I mean when you meet her. She's just one of those you miss._

Luke stops reading, once again.

She was right about that, at least. Luke _does_ miss his mother. Something has been off between them ever since Luke informed Quinn she was going to become a grandmother, and Luke isn't sure why.

He definitely needs to talk to her about all of this.

_She doesn't know when she's coming home, which annoys me. Several things annoy me these days. I've definitely got a shorter fuse than usual and, yes, I'm going to blame you. I'm hoping it's before Christmas, because I really don't want to spend that long in Lima without her. I love my dads, but I really just miss my wife and our shared life._

_Anyway, clearly, as a result of all my crazy hormones, I'm turning into a basket case._

_Who is dead tired. I promised I would help my Dad with his paperwork in the morning. At this rate, I'll get five hours of sleep, at best. It's bad form, I know. I definitely should take better care of myself, and you._

_But it's my birthday. I should be forgiven._

_Don't you worry, all right? I'll do much better._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Once he's done, Luke leans his head back again and closes his eyes, replaying all this day has revealed to him. His breathing slowly evens out and, as he drifts to sleep, he can practically hear his other mother repeatedly telling him what he needs to hear.

_Don't you worry._

* * *

Luke wakes to a sound he's grown accustomed to, ever since he and Mia first moved in together. He recognises it as a cello Shostakovich concerto, and it's absolutely beautiful. Because of it, he's tempted to remain right where he is, basking in the music, but he eventually has to roll out of bed.

He isn't surprised to find he's in his old bedroom. His neck hurts, and he's still tired, but he does stand and stretch, his joints audibly complaining. The journal slipped to the ground during the night, and he bends to retrieve it, tucking it safely under his arm, and leaves the room.

Luke follows the sound of the music, heading down the stairs and into what Mia decided would be her own practice room. It has wonderful acoustics, apparently, and this house definitely has the space for it.

He stands in the doorway and watches her until she draws the piece to a close, the last notes echoing. She has her back to him, but she knows he's there.

She doesn't know what it is, but she's always been able to _feel_ him.

"Good morning," Mia says, not even turning her head to look at him. "How did you sleep?"

Luke walks towards her and comes to a stop just behind her. He lifts his hands to massage her shoulders, gently kneading the muscles. "Good morning to you, too," he says softly, bending and kissing the top of her head. "Is that a new piece?" he asks.

She looks over her shoulder at him. "You're up."

"Sorry," he says, even though he's not entirely sure what he's apologising for.

Mia makes no comment as she rises to her feet. She allows him to take the cello from her and watches as he carefully sets it in its large case. "Are we going to talk about it?" she eventually asks.

Luke blinks. "I'll make breakfast," he says.

"I'm having brunch with Sarah," she reminds him. "Now that we're past the first trimester, I'm going to tell her. Is that all right?"

"Of course," he says easily. It's Mia's decision who she decides to tell. "I think I'm just going to stay home today. I have, umm - " he hesitates. "I _have_ to read it, Mia."

"I know," she says, but there's a part of him that wonders if she actually does.

He smiles. "You're too good to me."

"I know that, too."

He draws her into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and burying his face in her hair. "I think I might also visit my Mom," he whispers.

"Oh?"

"I just want to see her," he says, pulling away so he can look at her face. "I, umm - " he pauses.

"You miss her, don't you?"

He laughs lightly. "She's just one of those you miss, apparently."

Mia kisses the underside of his chin, before she removes herself from his arms and leads the way out of the practice room.

They go about their morning as usual, except that Mia skips out on breakfast.

After he eats, Luke disappears into his own practice room, where his other mother's grand piano sits at the very centre.

Where she left it all those years ago.

Growing up, this room was like a mausoleum, because Quinn very rarely entered it, and she made sure to keep the door closed. He understands now that the memories were likely too painful for his mother.

Forcing the thoughts from his mind, he throws himself onto the black leather couch, pulls out the journal and starts to read.

_26th December 2021_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_I just wanted to say Merry Christmas, and tell you a little bit about how your - super boring - parents spent the day._

_We're in Lima for the holidays, so we had breakfast at home (I don't think I mentioned we actually have a house in Lima, but we do. Based on the number of times we manage to make it out here, it just seemed like the thing to do. Even if my dads pouted and grumbled about it.). Quinn cooked, as usual. I was craving fried chicken again, but she already made waffles, so I had them together and wow! Even with the maple syrup. It's to die for._

Luke can't help his gasp. No wonder his mother always looks amused whenever Luke wants fried chicken.

And the waffles.

All this time, Quinn knew, and said nothing about it.

_I don't know if you know this, but I'm a vegan. Well, I was until the cravings started, and now I eat nearly everything I want. I'm sure __I'll go back to my moral and ethical code once I've pushed you out of my body._

_Anyway, after we ate, we went to visit my parents to help prepare for Christmas lunch. You and I wanted fried chicken AGAIN, but we managed to curb the craving. It's proving to be a problem, you know? _

_Control yourself._

_My Daddy makes some of the best eggnog, but I wasn't allowed to have any (of the best kind). How awful. We spent majority of the afternoon with them, exchanging gifts and stories. I've been a bit of a hermit lately, so it was nice to see them. _

_I want you to know your family. We may be dwindled in numbers (not everybody is accepting of our lifestyle, as it were), but I never want to forget where I come from. Neither should you. Your mothers love each other dearly; please never be ashamed of it._

_We went home for a little rest after that. I caught a nice long nap while Quinn visited Beth and Shelby. I would have gone with, but I was too tired. You're tiring me out, little one._

_When I was finally up for it, we went to the Hudson-Hummel house. Now, going to their house on any day is already an event, but going on Christmas Day... Wow. _

_That's always an experience._

_There were so many people, I can't even list them all for you. I did spend most of the evening sitting at the kitchen table with Brittany and Mercedes. We're regular old ladies now. Total Moms. _

_Well, they are. _

_Quinn and I are one of the last couples in our immediate friend circle to have our first child, and I suppose knowing what to expect is an advantage, right?_

_The thing is that Quinn and I have never really been in a rush to start our family, or get married for that matter. We were already forced to grow up too fast, I think, in our own ways, and we just wanted some time to live and be young._

_Dinner was amazing, as usual. Carole Hudson-Hummel really pulled out all the stops for her family. All her growing boys were there to indulge. Including you (because, honestly, I just have this feeling you're boy. I just know it. even if I cn't explain it)._

_I can just imagine you several years from now, hanging around Quinn's legs while she teases Santana about how whipped she still is for Brittany._

_Passing about presents was absolute chaos. I get anxiety just remembering it._

_I'll have you know that you received quite a few presents. I'll keep them safe for you, and you'll get them when you get here. Clearly, Quinn and I aren't the only ones excited for your arrival. You already have an entire family who loves you._

_But, don't you worry. Nobody loves you as much as Quinn and I do._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

It's odd, he thinks, how everything can hurt all at the same time.

It's not just his heart. It's his entire body, and he wonders if this is what his mother has been feeling since the moment Rachel Berry-Fabray took her last breath.

_3 January 2022_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_Happy New Year!_

_Quinn and I had a great New Year. You won't even believe what she had us do. She's adventurous and so spontaneous sometimes. It's proven to be a problem from time to time, which is something I'm sure you'll figure out for yourself._

_Anyway, I don't know if it was her FBI connections, or if it's because she's Quinn Berry-Fabray, but she was able to get us a helicopter ride AT MIDNIGHT, and we were able to watch the ball drop from the sky._

_It was as amazing as you can imagine._

_Obviously, we didn't go down into the crowds because, well, anything can happen in those large crowds. It was still wonderful and spectacular, and I definitely recommend it._

_If you haven't picked it up yet, we're back in New York. I enjoy going home to Lima, mainly because we get to see my dads, but there's also something very calming about the backwards town. __I know it doesn't hold particularly pleasant memories for Quinn, but she does seem to relax a bit when she's there. I think, when she's out of the city, she's able to turn off the 'Agent Fabray.' _

_Here, she's constantly on alert, and that is why going home to Lima is important for her, and for US._

_I want you to know where we're both from. Ohio is our home and, while you're probably going to be raised in New York, I don't want you to forget that._

_Anyway, I was coming to New York because I have to get back onto the stage. And, Quinn, well, she's leaving again. Apparently, they weren't able to wrap up what they needed to in Arizona, and there's been some kind of break in whatever case they were working._

_I don't know. I don't ask questions, and she's not really allowed to talk about it, anyway. __All I know is she's leaving again, and I already miss her. I wonder if the pregnancy is making me more clingy, but I reason I've always been this way. Just something about that Quinn Berry-Fabray._

_I hope this feeling never goes away._

_Watch out. I might just pass it on to you._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke, for the most part, already knows his mother is spontaneous and somewhat extravagant. She's had her crazy moment in the past, randomly showing up at his school and whisking him away to some exotic destination.

His Uncle Kurt once called Quinn restless.

He sees it now, as clear as day.

She's always been.

_17 January 2022_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_The piano is wonderful. It almost makes up for the fact that Quinn still isn't back from her case yet. I'm learning a new piece that I hope will be ready by the time she comes home._

_My Dad might have mentioned it's probably time for us to move into the big house. It's the house we bought when we first decided we were ready to start our family. We bought it with you in mind._

_The new house will be our new home. One in which we both want to raise our family. It has lots of character, and many, many rooms for the many, many babies we intend to have. I've already decided where the piano will go. That was the first thing I told Quinn when she presented it to me. It's the most important part, isn't it?_

_I hope you'll grow to love music. Hearing it, and playing it. I won't force you into anything, but I intend to expose you to all of it, in every genre (I hope you'll love show tunes, as well, but I know it's not for everyone). _

_My Daddy plays the saxophone. He started when he was very young, and it's because of him that I learned the wonder of classical music. We play together sometimes. You'll hear it one day._

Luke stops reading for a moment. If he ever heard his Grandpa LeRoy and other mother play; he can't remember.

There's so much he can't remember.

_Quinn tried to play piano once. I attempted to teach her something simple, but it just didn't work. She's entirely useless at it. She has the sports gene, apparently. She should stick to chasing bad guys and interrogating suspects. Help me make sure to remind her every day, all right?_

_We get out of the city, sometimes. Not just back home to Lima, but out into the wilderness, as well. For Glee, we sometimes went on these camping trips. Mr Schuester was convinced it would help with team bonding and, as much as we all used to grumble about it, I'm convinced we actually enjoyed it. Let's just say I've SEEN some things, but those are stories for another day._

_Just remind me to tell you, all right? Make sure _I'm_ the one who tells you. Quinn will make herself sound like a villain in every one of them that the stories won't be accurate. She's never truly accepted that I've truly forgiven her for what happened between us in high school._

_And, make sure Santana doesn't tell you the stories, either. She'll blow them way out of proportion. And Brittany will just confuse you. Goodness knows she still confuses me. _

_Trust me, I'm definitely your best bet._

_Don't you worry, Baby Berry-Fabray. I always will be._

_Love,_

_Your Mother_

For a moment, Luke feels a flash of anger. She lied to him. She _lied_. She's not here. She's not around for him.

Who's supposed to be his 'best bet' now?

It takes another moment for him to calm. He's being ridiculous. It isn't as if she _asked_ to die. He knows, without a doubt, she would have done _everything_ in her power to stay with him.

He also knows that Quinn would have done everything she could as well and, he suspects, that she might have tried. From what Luke has read and been told, Quinn didn't handle her wife's death all that well, but she pulled herself together for her son.

For Luke.

Everything she's ever done has been for the benefit of her son. Luke isn't naïve enough to have missed that, now that he's old enough to see all of it. His other mother might have died, but Quinn more than made up for it.

The humble woman she is.

Luke feels like he's learning as much about Quinn as he is about his other mother with these letters.

He _has_ to keep reading.

_25 January 2022_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_She's home!_

_Forgive me. I'm just a little relieved to have Special Agent Extraordinaire (Berry-)Fabray in the same state as the both of us again. I really don't like it when she's gone. The work she does is so dangerous, and I've contemplated guilt-tripping her into pulling back, but I can't bring myself to do it. She's so passionate about her work._

_But she's home! Which means she'll be here for our next checkup and, according to the books I've read; we should be able to know the gender of a baby at this stage. _

_So, I'm excited for that; I can't even explain it._

_Even though I'm convinced you're a boy, I don't actually know if I want a girl or a boy. I think that we'd be better prepared for a girl, given our experience with Beth. _

_That relationship is a difficult one to explain, but I'm going to try. Quinn is Beth's birth mother, but she gave her up, and Beth was adopted by my birth mother, Shelby._

_Believe me, it's been as awkward and weird as it sounds, but we make it work. Beth even visits us in the summer. She absolutely loves New York City._

_But a little boy would be great as well. Sometimes, I imagine Quinn with our son, just listening as he babbles about nonsensical things. She's had plenty of practice with me. I have this image in my mind of her lying on the carpet in the den, and our son running his toy cars along her body while making all the appropriate sounds._

_It's an image that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside._

_She was surprised by how much my stomach's grown when she got home. I'm definitely showing, which means that people will start noticing; which means the entire entertainment world is going to know about you. I've tried to keep you hidden, but there's only so much I can do._

_If I could have you and not let the world know, I would. Hmm. Maybe I should quit the theatre and just hide out at home as I get bigger. I can make my music at home. How does that sound?_

_Looks like we're back to that whole idea of home-schooling you. It keeps popping up. _

_Clearly, it's a sign._

_I'm kidding. I think. I'll discuss it with Quinn, even though I'm already sure what she'll say. Or think. She's not like Santana in that she probably won't call me insane to my face anymore, but she'll definitely think it, and then call me brilliant instead._

_Now that I'm pregnant, she's decided to give me everything I want. I don't even have to ask sometimes. She's a bit of a mind-reader these days._

_She brought us presents back from Arizona. I'll have you know that I threw up the moment I smelt the dried Apache trout. Quinn, though, with her Special Agent (cheerleading) reflexes, was able to get out of the way in time._

_I've never found throwing up all that funny, but I don't think I've laughed so hard in my entire life. _

_She brought us clothes as well. You've got a little babygrow that'll make you look like a little kangaroo. You're going to look adorable. I can just imagine it now._

_I also got a onesie to match you AND Quinn. I cannot wait for us to be a family of kangaroos. Can you imagine? Quinn Berry-Fabray dressed in a kangaroo jumpsuit. It's funny just thinking about it. Those would be pictures the Bureau would definitely love to see. I'm sure they would pay good money for them._

_Wow. Can you tell I'm glad she's home? Everything is better when she's around. Don't you worry. You'll see for yourself._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke, thankfully, is smiling this time around.

Sure, he feels the sadness, but this is obviously a happier letter. She sounds _happy_ and light and carefree. She also sounds young and optimistic, and _so in love_.

Wow, he misses her, and the sheer incredulity of that gives him pause.

He's forced to wait several minutes as he tries to keep his heart rate steady.

"Luke?"

He straightens to see Mia poking her head through the open door. "Hey, you."

"I'm headed out," she says. "Do you need me to pick up anything?"

He shakes his head.

"Will you be all right?"

He nods, suddenly not trusting himself to speak.

She regards him for a moment, trying to read him. "Okay."

"Say hi to Sarah for me," he adds, almost as an afterthought. "Tell her I haven't forgotten what she said about my football team."

Mia laughs. "You do remember my sister and I support the same team, right?"

"I remember," he mutters good-naturedly. "I don't know why I ever married you."

"It's because I'm so damn hot."

"This is true."

"I love you, Lucas Berry-Fabray."

He grins at her. "I love you too, Amelia Berry-Fabray."

"I'm stepping out into the world," she says teasingly, standing up straight. "I go by Amelia Loren, thank you very much."

Thinking back on his mothers, he frowns slightly. Professionally, Quinn remained a Fabray, and his other mother stayed Rachel Berry.

"What's wrong?" Mia asks.

"Hmm?"

"You're frowning."

He blinks. "Do you not use Berry-Fabray because you're ashamed of being married to me?" he finds himself asking, which is definitely not what he's actually thinking.

Mia's eyes widens. "What?"

Luke drops his gaze. "Sorry. Stupid question."

"We decided, the both of us, that I would keep my name professionally," she says, frowning slightly. "And, I was teasing."

"I know," he says, shaking his head at himself. "Sorry. I'm just, umm, working through, umm something."

"Okay," she says.

He takes a deep breath. "I love you, Mia. And little Baby Berry-Fabray."

She blows him an air-kiss. "See you later, Daddy Berry-Fabray."

And then she's gone, leaving Luke alone with his other mother and the memories he wishes he had of her.

_Daddy_.

Luke is going to be a Dad.

If that isn't enough to frighten him, he doesn't know what is. It helps that his other mother admitted to being a bit afraid of it as well.

_4th February 2022_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_Today was supposed to be a good day. I was so excited about finding out your gender, so I can refer to you as something different until we decide on a name for you._

_So, Quinn and I went to the doctor today, and we saw you on the sonogram. You're a whole actual baby. Inside me. It was amazing. We weren't able to tell what your gender is yet, because you just wouldn't cooperate, but I'll definitely keep you posted on those developments._

_But, I think it freaked out Quinn. _

_I wasn't surprised by her reaction, given all she's been through in her life. As much as she's convinced herself she wants a family of her own; I think the reality of it has just hit her. Seeing you like that scared her._

_She was worryingly quiet when we left the doctor's. I don't usually call her out on her broodiness, because she usually takes some time to thaw, but I started to think this isn't actually what she wants. I was worried she didn't want this and us anymore, and that frightened me. I can't imagine doing this alone._

_So, I asked her about it, and we sort of fought. Don't be surprised. Married people do fight. Well, she was hurt I would think such a thing, and I realise why that would be so. __She did acknowledge my doubts weren't unfounded. We're good at that, you know? Quinn and I, we tend to talk about things. _

_Well, eventually, because it's taken us years to get to this point in our relationship._

_I hope you'll be the same. It's good to talk about things. Please never go to bed angry with anyone. When you've been through teenage pregnancies, almost teenage weddings, near-fatal car accidents, gay panic and all those other wonderful things; you tend to get over things really quickly. You tend to forgive the petty things. _

_But, never go to bed angry. We never know what can happen._

_Well, isn't that morbid? I told you today was supposed to be a good day._

_There are things you won't know about Quinn and, if she had her way, you wouldn't ever know, but there are reasons why she's so afraid of being a mother. __Psychology says there are always chances of children from abusive homes perpetuating the cycle. She's always been worried about it, but I know her._

_We know her, Baby Berry-Fabray. She's dedicated her entire life to helping people; to saving people. She's a great woman and it's up to us to make sure we tell her every day. She likes the blame-game a little too much, so we have to keep her in check. We have to look after her; we have to love her._

_Can you help me with it? She's too pure and kind for the world to take advantage of, and it's up to us to keep her happy._

_Because, she makes me so happy, Baby Berry-Fabray. Even when she's brooding, believe it or not. Even when she's convinced she's undeserving of the forgiveness and love in which I'm determined to shower her, she still makes me happy._

_The fact that she's so worried tells me she'll be a great mother. Not perfect. Nobody is. But she'll beat herself up to make sure you live the kind of life she could only dream of when she was a child. You are already loved, Baby Berry-Fabray._

_You may also end up being the most spoilt child in all of America._

_I'll do my best to keep you grounded. I suspect Quinn will want to give you everything you want. Do try not to take advantage of her. Promise you'll at least try._

_So, we talked it out. Well, I reckon _I_ talked, and she listened. That's usually how it goes. Always has been._

_Don't you worry. I doubt that'll ever change._

_Love,_

_Your Mother_

For a moment, Luke can't recall what he's just read. There's just so much in that letter that he feels particularly winded.

Of course, he does know things about his mother's childhood - he's never actually met any members of the Fabray family because of it - but it's never been something they talk about.

They will talk about _this,_ though.

Making a decision, he shuts the journal and sets it aside.

There's only one thing to do now.

* * *

It doesn't take him long to shower and get dressed and, by noon, he's at Quinn's apartment with the intention of getting some answers for his questions.

Luke enters his mother's home with a little apprehension, using the key she gave him the day she moved in. There's always been something a little unsettling about the apartment itself, as if the air could never truly be _happy_, because it's never been able to witness the love his mothers obviously had for each other.

Quinn Berry-Fabray has even made her slight distaste for the place known on a few occasions, but she moved into it well before Luke even got married.

Almost twenty-seven years later, and Luke still doesn't understand her.

Though, he reasons, with the help of this journal, he's definitely learning.

Luke isn't surprised to find Quinn in her study, which is really a glorified library. It boasts a great collection of books, which he knows his parents both loved. She's hunched over some kind of textbook at her desk, studying it intensely.

Quinn, predictably, is surprised by the arrival of her son, and it shows on her face when she eventually looks up and spots the younger Berry-Fabray in the doorway.

"Luke?" Quinn says, immediately standing. "Everything all right? Is Amelia okay?"

Luke can't help his smile, because Quinn tends to worry far too much, and she just won't call his wife anything other than 'Amelia.' "Everything's fine, Mom," he says, moving into the room. "Mia's great. Didn't you speak to her yesterday?"

Quinn's cheeks tinge pink. "I did."

Luke shakes his head as he moves around the desk to hug her hello. If Quinn notices how hard he holds onto her, she doesn't say anything. "She wants you to come over for dinner some time this week," he says, releasing her.

"What day did you have in mind?"

Luke is a little thrown by the speed of his mother's response. "Umm, how's about Thursday?"

"Sounds good," Quinn says easily.

Luke frowns. "Don't you have to check some schedule or something?" he asks, absently waving at her desk.

Quinn's frown matches her son's. "No," she says slowly. "It doesn't matter what I may or may not have going on. I always have time for my son."

That _is_ the truth.

Luke knows of the sacrifices his mother made when his other mother died, even though Quinn has never explicitly told him.

Quinn Berry-Fabray was once a rising star in the Federal Bureau of Investigation, working as part of an elite team of criminal profilers. But, when her wife died, she resigned almost immediately.

There would be no more cases to take her away from Luke.

"So, Thursday then?" Quinn clarifies.

Luke nods as he walks back around the desk. "I'll double check with Mia." Then, he grins. "Or, _you_ could, I suppose. My Mom and wife seem to be getting pretty cosy, huh?"

The pinkness is back. "I needed some boxes from the attic."

Luke sinks onto the couch in the study and props his feet up on the low table. "Was there something specific you were looking for?" he asks, arching an eyebrow in a way that is eerily similar to his mother.

Quinn also retakes her seat, absently running a hand over her short hair. "Maybe."

Luke smiles knowingly. "Mia might have gone a little crazy," he says. "She spent the entire day up there. I didn't know how much you kept."

"I kept everything," Quinn confesses. "I couldn't bring myself to get rid of anything. She would have lectured me to within an inch of my life."

Once again, Luke notes that his mother doesn't refer to his other mother by name, though she's always made sure Luke knew he could talk and ask questions about the one and only Rachel Berry-Fabray.

"Well, you've now handed my wife some truly embarrassing ammunition," Luke says, chuckling. "I've spent years trying to convince her I'm cool."

"Luke, you don't need me to tell you you've failed miserably at that," she says, her smile matching her son's. "Mia already knows you're the furthest from cool."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom," he comments drily, rolling his eyes.

Quinn leans back in her desk chair and regards her son curiously. "Are you sure everything's all right?"

For a moment, Luke is tempted not to bring up the journal, but he _has_ to know. "When you spoke to Mia about wanting something from the attic; you knew she would go looking, didn't you?"

Quinn's gaze meets his; hazel green eyes locking on light chestnut. "I didn't _know_," she confesses truthfully. "I had a suspicion, given what I already know about her, but I didn't expect her to find what I was looking for."

"And, what exactly were you looking for?"

Quinn remains silent.

Luke fishes the journal out of his messenger bag. "Is it this?"

Quinn's eyes drift towards the notebook in her son's hand, her breath catching at the sight of it. "What is that?"

"At first, I thought it was one of her journals," he says, his voice dropping in volume. "But her journals stop in 2019, and this one is from 2021."

Quinn cocks her head to the side, just waiting.

"It's not a journal, though," Luke continues. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Quinn doesn't respond to the question. "Have you read it?"

"Just the first few letters," he admits. "I have so many questions."

Quinn visibly stiffens, but she says nothing.

"Were you ever going to give it to me?"

"It's why I wanted it from the attic," she says, nodding once. "I was always going to give it to you when, you know, became a parent."

"So, you read it then?"

Quinn leans forward. "I did."

"But...?"

"I'm aware the letters are all addressed to you, but you have to understand you're not the only person who wants to hold onto her," she says calmly, unapologetically. "I went through every journal long before you did, and I'm not ashamed of it. They are her words, and I couldn't resist. I could just imagine her saying them."

Luke blinks. "It's like her voice is in my head."

"Hasn't it always been?"

Luke nods. "But, why now?"

"You already know the answer to that, Luke."

He takes a deep breath and relaxes into the couch. "But _why_?"

"Why did she write the letters? Or, why am I giving it to you now?"

"Both."

She clears her throat. "I don't know the answer to that first question," she admits. "Only she knows. But, I do know she would want you to read it now. _I_ want you to read it now because parenthood is scary, and I don't think I'm enough to help you through it."

"Mom," he breathes, his chest tightening.

"She was a great mother," Quinn continues, as if he hasn't spoken. "I know we didn't get that long with her, but she was great, and I've thought a lot about this, and I know you would have had a better life if she were here instead of me."

Luke's eyes snaps towards his mother. "Don't say that," he says tensely.

"Can you honestly tell me you haven't had the same thought?" Quinn asks, thoughtfully. "That you would rather have her here instead of me?"

Luke hesitates, knowing he won't be able to lie to this human-lie-detector in front of him.

"It's all right, Luke," Quinn says gently.

Luke just stares at her with wide eyes, feeling an itch behind his eyes.

"Which is why I wanted you to have that journal," Quinn continues. "There are things only she can teach you about being a parent. This privilege, Luke, of being a husband and father, it's the greatest thing that will ever happen to you, and I want you to do it right."

Luke is still caught up on his mother's earlier words, and he can't bring himself to speak. Does she really think that? Does she think _Luke_ thinks that?

Before their current one-sided conversation can continue, they're made aware there's another person in the apartment.

Immediately on alert, both Berry-Fabrays rise to their feet, and Quinn might have reached for her firearm if they didn't hear a familiar voice.

"It's just me," the person calls out, revealing her identity.

Both mother and son visibly relax.

"We're in here," Quinn calls back.

A few moments later, Beth Corcoran-Bay sticks her head through the door. "Everybody decent?" she asks, grinning.

"What an idiot," Luke comments as he clambers to his feet to embrace his… half-sister/half-aunt.

It's complicated, indeed.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Beth asks, picking up on the tension in the room.

Neither Berry-Fabray responds.

After greeting Luke, Beth moves on to Quinn, hugging her loosely.

"How is Mommy Berry-Fabray?" Beth asks Quinn.

"Good," she says. "How's Mommy Corcoran-Bay? How's Victor? The kids?"

"Everyone is good," Beth lets them both know, settling into an armchair, while Luke and Quinn return to their own seats. "I just got back from Boston."

Quinn already knows that, but Luke proceeds to ask Beth all sorts of questions about the seasoned head hunter's work, revelling in Beth's tales about her methods for scouting and securing the best talent.

Quinn just watches them converse, a certain warmth filling her chest. These are her children, no matter what anybody says.

"Quinn," Beth eventually says, getting her attention. "I actually have a favour to ask."

Quinn gives her, her full attention. "What's up, kiddo?"

"It's about Forrest," she says, referring to her young son. "They're having some kind of pageant thing, I suppose, at his school, and he's supposed to talk about one of his heroes, and he picked you."

Quinn glances at Luke for a moment before she nods, prompting Beth to continue.

"He's written you a letter," Beth says, smiling. "It's two weekends away, and he would probably die if you were to show up. I'm not supposed to _ask_ you, so I won't. I'm just supposed to deliver this letter, right into your hand, and make sure you read it."

Quinn can't help her chuckle.

Forrest Noah Bay has to be the greatest grandchild Quinn could have ever asked for. He's already a seven-year-old monster, and Quinn gets almost daily phone calls from Beth complaining about the fact the Universe decided she deserved the punishment of birthing a _boy_.

Quinn puts out her hand. "Hand it over, then," she says.

Beth gets to her feet, fishes out the letter from her bag and places it in Quinn's hand. "If my son asks, you tell him I put it right into your hand, all right?"

"Done," she says, opening the letter and reading the messy handwriting. She can't help her smile. That little kid.

When she looks up again, both Beth and Luke are watching her, each sporting stupid grins. "What?" she asks innocently.

"Are you sure you're not really still a kid?" Beth asks.

"I can appreciate a good kid's letter," Quinn says, her cheeks tingeing pink again.

It's a wonder Luke hasn't noticed how many times his mother actually gets embarrassed in a single day. He suspects she really would turn beet red if ever she was asked to talk about her _feelings_.

"Do you still get all that fan mail?" Beth asks.

Quinn, once again, glances at Luke before she responds. "Not as much as I used to, no," she confesses. "Now, it's just kids who believe the stories they hear."

"Or, the stories they read," Beth adds. "I know you know what Forrest believes is actually true, right? His _grandMommy_ Berry-Fabray is a hero."

Quinn makes no comment.

This is a conversation she always seems to avoid having with anyone - the work she's done in the name of love and country is sacred to her - especially when she's in front of Luke. She's tried to shield him from all of that unnecessary... drivel.

Quinn shakes her head. "I'll be there," she says simply.

Beth's face breaks out into a wide grin. "He's going to freak out when I tell him."

"Make sure he's sitting down," Luke comments, his smile matching Beth's.

When they were still kids, the two of them spent a lot of time teasing Quinn about her apparent hero status because it made her so uncomfortable.

Even now, as adults, they can't help it.

It's just too good to pass up.

Early in her career, Quinn worked a case in New York, that started out as a single murder, and paved the way to the discovery of a nefarious terrorist plot. The entire thing was littered with conspiracy and bureaucracy, and Quinn was just a young agent who followed her gut right into the thick of things.

There's footage of the incident that has gone down in FBI history, and put her name on the list of the greats. Luke didn't learn about it until he was much older, and he heard people whispering about Quinn Fabray (well, when they weren't whispering about Rachel Berry).

When he did the thing and actually _Googled_ his mother - the supposedly less famous one - he learned far more than he ever thought he would. She was probably single-handedly responsible for saving hundreds and thousands of lives, merely because she was in the right place at the right time.

That's what she says, anyway, whenever she gets roped into talking about it.

Luke watched the footage fifteen times to be sure it was real.

There was a man standing on the steps of Grand Central Station with a bomb strapped to his chest, trigger clasped in his hand, and then there was Quinn standing right in front of him, hands held out in front of her, nothing to protect her.

He had a bomb and a gun, and she just had her mouth and her hands.

Luke can only imagine what was said, but Quinn managed to get close enough to the man that he made a grab for her, and she let him. (It took him until the eighth viewing to realise she let him). The bomb's trigger, clasped in his left hand, was locked around her throat, and the gun was pointed to her head, pressed against her temple.

Luke remembers thinking there was no way she made it out of that, but he knew she had to, because she was alive and well and humming to herself in the kitchen downstairs.

The man was yelling something, and Quinn was working him up, getting him angry and enraged until he was waving the gun and tightening his hold on her.

And, then, she did this thing.

This completely stupid, ridiculous thing that he remembers his Aunt Santana constantly teasing her about.

Quinn made a move for the gun as he was waving it around, twisted the man's arm right around and shot the gun through her own body and into his. If that wasn't crazy enough, she managed to keep a hold of the trigger as they both fell to the ground.

Luke has never managed to rid his brain of the image of her lying there, blood pooling around her.

She survived.

Miraculously.

Quinn was hailed a hero, and she's hated every second of it.

"Stop it, you two," Quinn warns, though her smile betrays her.

Beth leans back in her chair and looks at Luke. "Mommy Berry-Fabray's getting touchy."

Quinn just shakes her head, resisting the urge to throw something at one of them.

Luke laughs. "Beth, are you staying for lunch?"

Quinn blinks in surprise. "We're having lunch?"

"I can make breakfast for lunch," Luke offers, not sure what to make of the surprised tone in his mother's voice. "Like we used to have."

Like a child, Beth claps her hands together. "Oh, please make waffles, and your famous maple syrup chilli thing."

"With fried chicken?" Luke asks.

"Ooh," Beth says excitedly. "Yes, please."

Beth and Luke look at Quinn, both of them asking the silent question. They already know she's going to give in.

She usually does.

Quinn lets out a breath. "By all means," she eventually says, waving a hand through the air. "Go wild in my kitchen."

Luke jumps up, closely followed by Beth. They start muttering to each other like they're still children. It's difficult to imagine there are roughly twelve years between them.

Quinn watches them leave the study, feeling somewhat… giddy. It's not a feeling she experiences often. She lives a lonely life, and she loves having her family around.

Her children.

Quinn doesn't spend too much time reminiscing before she rises to her feet and goes to join Beth and Luke in the kitchen.

Indeed, she finds they've already made quite a mess of the kitchen.

Still, it has to be one of the best meals Quinn has ever had.

The three of them are able to enjoy one another's company, making jokes and just _being_. It feels like so long since they've done this, but also as if they've been doing it every day, at the same time.

* * *

Beth is the first to excuse herself several hours later, leaving the apartment with a brilliant smile on her face. She leaves Quinn and Luke in the study, with Luke back on the couch, and Quinn in an armchair, the same book from earlier propped open on her lap.

She isn't reading, though.

Neither is Luke.

"How is work?" Quinn asks.

"Interesting," Luke replies. "I've been working on a new piece, for the baby."

Quinn smiles. "Just the piano, or the entire orchestra?"

"Both." He doesn't mention it isn't going all that well, even though he's certain she would understand. She _was_ married to a musician, after all.

"Do you think it will be done by November?"

Luke can't help his grin. "You talk to my wife a little too much, you know?"

Quinn shrugs. "She did say she finds me more attractive than she finds you."

"Did she now?"

"Don't blame her," she says, winking at him. "I'm terribly good-looking."

All Luke can think is _so much for humble_.

But, then again, Quinn Berry-Fabray is probably just being realistic. She really is still an attractive woman. It baffles so many that she's never remarried. It's not that she didn't date on occasion. She _is_ a human being after all, but nobody could ever claim a heart that was already taken by a dead woman.

She promised her wife forever, and she meant it.

If Luke ever worries that his mother is unhappy, it always comes back to the truth that Quinn Berry-Fabray would never find true happiness with anyone other than the love of her life, Rachel Berry-Fabray.

"I'm sure you don't want to spend your Sunday with an old woman like me," Quinn eventually says.

Luke shifts until he's reclining comfortably. "I'm exactly where I want to be," he says.

Quinn just stares at him.

"Unless you want to be alone?"

Quinn shakes her head. "No, no, I don't."

"So, you won't mind if I just sit here and read?"

Quinn absently waves a hand. "By all means."

They regard each other, once more, before they both turn their attentions to their respective written works.

Quinn is reading up on new hostage negotiating techniques for when her specialty recruits resume training the following morning.

And Luke, well, he resumes reading the journal he now knows was designed, in its entirety, to change _everything_.

* * *

Luke keeps sneaking looks at his mother over the top of the journal and, if Quinn notices, she doesn't comment. There's something fractured in their relationship, and Luke can't pinpoint exactly what it is.

What he does know is that it started the moment Luke told Quinn about the baby.

Or, it just _magnified_.

He now suspects this collection of letters is the key to it all.

_19th February 2022_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_In lesser news, Quinn is finally twenty-eight as well, and she can stop teasing me about being a cougar._

_In bigger news:_

_It's official. _

_The world now knows that there's a Baby Berry-Fabray on the way. We've been bombarded with so much mail and good wishes. You're practically a royal baby. The entire entertainment (and Federal) world is waiting on your arrival._

_Blame Quinn. _

_She's the one who decided to save the world with everyone watching._

_I don't know exactly how they confirmed the pregnancy, but it was bound to come out eventually. I'm less annoyed than I thought I would be. It's odd._

_They broke the story this morning and Quinn was tiptoeing around me the entire time she was getting ready for work. It's funny now that I think about it. It was like I was a ticking timebomb and she was just waiting for me to explode._

_I ended up just laughing, surprising us both. It was bound to happen (can't really hide it forever, you know). Anyone around the hospital could have seen me and just known. We're getting closer and closer to your due date, you and me. I used to think nine months was such a long time to be pregnant, but things really do seem to be speeding up now._

_In just a matter of months, you'll be here. I can't wait, but I also _can_. Does that make sense? _

_Everything changes when you arrive._

_Speaking of changes... _

_We've decided we're going to move into the house. Majority of it is already furnished - though, all I really need is the piano. _

_I think Quinn only agreed to the move because she doesn't want to set up your room in this little apartment. She wants to give you the perfect nursery, and she's going to do it in our official family home._

_I can tell she's excited about it. She can get a bit restless sometimes, so it's good to give her something to do. She's been sketching out the nursery, moving things around and asking for my approval._

_I find I'm looking forward to shopping for you. Baby things just make me so happy. They're so tiny and cute, and I actively have to stop myself from buying everything I see. I'm certain you're going to be the best dressed baby in America. _

_Well, when you're not dressed like a kangaroo, that is._

Luke stops reading and looks at his mother. "Mom?"

Quinn immediately lifts her gaze. "Hmm?"

"Do you still have my baby clothes?"

Quinn appears surprised by the question for a moment, before she smiles and nods. "I do. Why?"

"That kangaroo outfit," he says. "I, umm, I'd like for Baby Berry-Fabray to have it, if that's all right."

Quinn pales considerably. "The kangaroo outfit?"

"Unless...?"

"No," Quinn quickly says. "I have it. I have all of your clothes. Do you want them all?"

Without thinking, Luke nods. He's sure he and Mia can go through them, and see which ones to pass on - as yet, they don't know the gender of their baby.

"Okay."

"Okay."

They both return to their reading.

_We're moving in - officially - at the beginning of March. I think we both definitely want to bring you home from the hospital to the new house; to your new bedroom. _

_Though, I'm certain you'll spend your first few weeks with us in our bedroom. I don't think I'll be able to let you out of my sight._

_Do you reckon we'll also have an Out-Of-Sight Fight? If you remember, I think I mentioned the fight Quinn and I had after she ended up in the hospital the first time, about how I couldn't let her out of my sight. My anxiety levels used to spike dangerously whenever I didn't know where she was._

_At least, with you, you won't be able to walk around and wreak havoc until you're at least one, right? I think I'll have calmed by then, but I can't make any promises. I'm certain I'll freak out when Quinn first plays aeroplane with you._

_So, seeing as the news broke today, I didn't go into work. Regina called and let me know there was press a plenty outside the theatre. They want statements and pictures, and I'm rebelling against all of that. _

_And, I'm convinced it will put stress on the both of us._

_Unfortunately for Quinn, there was nothing she could do to avoid it all. They were waiting for her at Headquarters. She looked positively exhausted by the time she got home, which was amusing until she told me she told the reporters that at least there was now actual proof she had sex with Rachel Berry-Fabray._

_I ended up punching her in the boob._

Luke winces, and then laughs.

Quinn looks up. "What?"

"When the press found out about me, did you really tell them that - "

Quinn cuts her son off by bursting out laughing. "Oh, God," she says, coughing. "I forgot all about that."

"Did she really, you know...?" Luke asks, glancing down at his mother's chest, and then flushes madly, because, _God_, _did he just look at his mother's breasts_? He doesn't _know_ what it feels like to be punched in the breast, but he imagines it must hurt.

Quinn laughs, once again. "Oh, yes, yes, she did," she says. "And, then she felt awful about it, because I was just messing with her."

Luke shakes his head, the smile still on his face. "Amazing."

Quinn looks lost in the memory for a moment, before she says, "Yeah, she really was."

A moment later, they're both back to their own reading.

_And then immediately felt awful about it when I realised she was joking. But, really, she had to know what would happen if she was going to make a joke like that. It really is all her own fault._

_I'm certain the press will end up contacting most of our family and friends to get information on you. I suspect they're all eager to find out what we're having; as am I. We'll find out, and then we'll name you. We've actually spent quite a bit of time thinking of names. Would you like to hear them?_

_Boy's Names: Nicholas, Lucas, Rowan, James, and Callum._

_Girl's Names: Emma, Charlotte, Grace, Catherine and Lily._

_How do those sound to you? Would you be all right with spending your entire life being called by one of those? It puts a lot of pressure on a parent, you know? We have to make that huge decision for you, and you have to wait until you're at least eighteen to get it changed if you don't like it._

_But, don't you worry. We'll pick wisely._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke closes his eyes for a moment.

His parents did choose wisely. Lucas Rowan Berry-Fabray is a great name. So much better than some of the other names he's come across in the music world.

_Those_ poor children.

"Mom?"

Quinn looks up. "Hmm?"

"If I'd been a girl, what would you have called me?"

There's only a moment of hesitation before Quinn replies. It's like she's recalling a memory, instead of having to think of an actual answer. "Charlotte Lily," she says easily. "We probably should have called you that, either way. It'd probably fit your personality better."

Luke chucks a pillow at her, which she easily deflects. "Women are powerful," he says.

"Exactly," Quinn agrees.

Luke, somewhat like his mother, feels uncomfortable with the underhanded compliment, though his cheeks remain their usual colour.

"So, what made you decide on Lucas then?" Luke asks.

Quinn frowns. "Do you really not know?"

"I've never asked."

Quinn manages a smile. "Keep reading," he says. "She'll tell you why. It sounds a lot better coming from her, anyway."

A lot of things do.

"Okay."

Quinn looks away first, prompting Luke to do the same.

_21st February 2022_

_What a day!_

_It's a strange day for us, mainly because it brings back memories of sorrow, and memories of happiness._

_Quinn tends to go quiet around this time of year. She starts to think about her family a lot, and about the life she could have lived had they been better people. It's taken me a while to realise this reaction of hers has nothing to do with the fact she's unhappy with the life we're living._

_It's never been about that. _

_Because, truly, this day also marks the reason why Quinn and I are even together the way we are. I'm sure we'll tell you the story in greater detail, but this day, in our sophomore year at college, also known as the two-year anniversary of her car accident, is the day Quinn finally worked up the courage to tell me she liked me._

_The car accident is monumental in our relationship, because it's probably the reason I didn't make one of the biggest mistakes of my life by marrying Finn. I shudder to think what I would have missed out on, if I hadn't decided to wait for this flighty blonde with whom I've decided to spend the rest of my life. The accident also prompted the beginning of a solid friendship that eventually formed - and continues to form - the basis of our (eventual) romantic relationship._

_So, today, we visited the 9/11 Memorial just the two of us. Three of us, I mean. We visited the many people this world lost. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but she's always harboured irrational guilt at the idea that, at some point in her life, she didn't want to live, while the people we visited didn't have a choice._

_She's a precious soul, Baby Berry-Fabray. She feels everything so deeply, even though she tries her best to hide it from us. We have to protect her, okay? She didn't say all that much while we stood over the names, but, then, well, you decided to join the party._

_We felt you kick for the first time today. Well, I suppose, now that I actually know what a kick feels like - ouch, by the way - I realise you've been moving for a few weeks now and I didn't even know. _

_Apparently, that's how it is with first time pregnancies._

_So, you kicked for us, and it was wonderful and exciting, and so heartbreaking all at the same time._

_And yes, Special Agent Extraordinaire, once again, dropped to her knees and wept. She placed her hands over you and just talked. For almost half an hour, she just explained all she knows of this world to you. It was therapeutic for all three of us._

_It's up to you and me to make sure she comes back to us. I know it sounds like a lot of responsibility but, after what you accomplished today, I can already tell you're up for the task, and you aren't even born yet._

_When we got back, I had this insane craving for fried chicken. Thank you for that, by the way. Quinn immediately went out to get some for me. I have her well-trained._

_She's actually still out while I write this. I haven't exactly told her what I'm doing writing all these letters. For all she knows, I've started with journalling again. I don't write all that much in front of her, though, so it could even be a lyric notebook._

_Oh, now I want cherries as well. Italian ones. Is that too picky?_

_I wonder how Quinn would feel about a quick trip to Rome - or just Little Italy, really. Just for cherries... _

_Now, see, that's my taking advantage of her._

_Don't you worry. I'll control myself._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke yawns.

He can't help it.

And, seeing as Quinn isn't a psychopath, she follows her son with a yawn of her own, prompting smiles on both their faces.

Quinn sets her book aside. "Want some tea?" she asks.

Luke nods. "Please."

Quinn smiles warmly, before she stands and leaves the room, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts.

He leans his head back and closes his eyes. Through these letters, he's being offered different insight into the young lives of his parents.

Their marriage.

Their difficulties.

All of it.

It fascinates him, and he's a little miffed that it's taken so long for it to happen.

When Quinn returns to the library, carrying a tray in front of her, she finds Luke asleep. It amazes her how much nothing has changed. Almost twenty-seven years later and they're still just mother and son.

Quinn sets the tray on the low table and drapes a light blanket over his long body.

She isn't sure how she feels about _that_ particular journal, but she still removes it from her sons's grip and sets it aside. Close enough for him to see as soon as he opens his eyes again.

Quinn returns to her chair, sips at her tea and continues to read.

* * *

Luke sleeps for almost two hours.

When he finally wakes, it's to find himself alone. For a moment, he doesn't know where he is, but, when he gets his wits about him, his eyes immediately search for the journal.

He finds it on his left side, with a note upon its top.

Quinn had to go out for a little while and she isn't sure when she'll be back.

Luke takes it as license to leave the house without waiting for his mother to return, so he wastes no time in returning to his own home, relieved when he enters the house to hear the sound of music.

Suddenly, he can't wait to see his wife.

Mia is in her practice room, lost in her music, when he finds her, and he has to stop himself from interrupting her flow, as desperately as he wants to.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way into the room. He recognises the moment she notices him, but she doesn't stop playing. He sinks to the floor against the wall on the right side of the room and says nothing.

He loves to watch her play.

There's something deeply soothing about it, and she looks positively majestic.

She looks _powerful_.

When Mia finishes, she stands, returns her cello to its case and moves to sit right beside her husband.

"When did you get home?" Luke asks, taking hold of one of her hands and squeezing it tightly.

"A couple of hours ago," she answers quietly. "Baby and I caught a nap, and then we came down to play."

He nods. "I like that piece," he says. "Tchaikovsky's Pezzo Capriccioso?"

"Louisa wants me to play it in the concert next month," she says. "I'm actually leaning towards a Bach Suite, but we'll have to see how it goes."

"Do you require accompaniment?" he asks lightly.

"If I did, I doubt they would allow my husband to accompany me," she says, squeezing his hand this time around.

"Well, the offer still stands."

Mia leans her head on his shoulder and sighs happily. "How's Quinn?"

Luke swallows. "Well, besides the fact she's obviously in love with my wife, she looks healthy enough."

Mia makes a sound of disapproval. "How is she, really?"

"The reason she wanted to get the boxes in the attic from you was because she wanted to find and give me the journal of letters," he explains. "She doesn't think she's done enough to prepare me for being a parent, and she's convinced I would be better prepared if my other mother was here instead of her."

Mia gasps. "What?"

"It's why she wants me to read the journal, I guess. The letters are about _her_ pregnancy, and how she dealt with it. How she prepared for me; how they both did." Luke takes a breath. "My Mom thinks she wasn't enough of a mother, Mia. Do you think she's always thought that?"

"She wouldn't be as great as she is if she didn't worry about it," she says diplomatically, even though she's feeling a handful of other things.

"But, for her to think I want my other mother here _instead_ of her," he says, his voice catching. "What kind of son have I been that she would think such a thing?"

"Luke," she says, making him look at her. "Maybe it's not about you. Maybe it's about who _she_ is; how she's always been. It's who _she_ is. Not you."

Luke blinks back the sudden rush of tears to his eyes.

"But, I suppose, it's also part of who you are as well, because you're convinced it's your doing; the same way Quinn's convinced it's hers." She shakes her head, and then smiles all too knowingly at him. "You really are related, aren't you?"

"Well, she _has_ taught me everything I know."

"_Everything_, huh?"

Luke grins, because, yes, as mortifying as the conversation was at the time, Quinn _did_ teach him how to please a woman. "From your tone, I can tell we're about to, hmm, how do they say, engage in a little sexy time."

Mia laughs. "You're such a dork, you know that."

"I do know that, yes."

"But, it's a good thing I love you, and my hormones _are_ really out of sorts."

He puffs out his chest. "Your wish is my command, Mrs Berry-Fabray."

"As it should be, Mr Berry-Fabray."

This part of being a husband to such a beautiful woman comes naturally to Luke. He _would_ give her everything she wanted. He didn't need to have read his other mother's letters to know his mother did the same.

Because, now he _knows_; he knows that just being who _she_ was, was everything Quinn wanted.

* * *

Luke is able to get back to the journal only much later - well after Mia falls asleep.

Instead of going to his childhood bedroom again, Luke makes his way to his practice room.

His other mother's practice room.

It's not the room as much as it's the piano that makes it special to him. Luke can sit at it, and immediately feel closer to her. She's usually on his mind whenever he's composing. Every note he writes has to be something of which she would be proud.

Luke settles on the long couch in the room, puts his feet up and starts to read what is now his constant companion.

_7th March 2022_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_You're a boy! You're a boy!_

_We went to the doctor today. Her name is Dr Anna Mess. She's delivered, I believe, almost twelve hundred babies, so I believe we'll be in good hands, you and me. She's been around for a _long_ time._

_Quinn was nervous, but she was a lot more attentive this time around. When we saw you, I can't even explain what it was like. __And, then, when the doctor told us you were a little baby boy... well, let's just say that Mommy Berry-Fabray wasn't the only one who cried. She's such a softie, that one._

_You're a boy. _

_We're having a baby boy. _

_You're going to be a Berry-Fabray boy._

_I think Quinn was a little relieved, to be honest. We're probably not ready for a girl yet, anyway. I'm very happy._

_I knew you'd be a boy, remember? I don't know how I knew, but I just did. I had a feeling. And, now that we know who you are, I think I know what I want your name to be. I'll discuss it with Quinn first, and then I'll let you know. I hope you'll be happy with it._

_I haven't told my parents yet. I think I'll Skype them tomorrow and tell both of them TOGETHER. My Daddy was a little touched that I told my Dad I was pregnant before I told him. I think he was joking around, but I can't be too sure._

_Anyway, I just wanted to let you know we found out what you are today, and I'm even more excited to meet you. I have this dream of meeting you, sometimes. The first time I lay eyes on you. It makes my heart race just thinking about it. _

_So little time to go now, little one._

_As excited as I am to meet you; I expect you to take your time, all right? There's no rush. You stay in there as long as you need, okay? I'll handle the outside world for now._

_Don't you worry. I'm patient enough to wait._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke can literally feel her excitement rolling off the page. He absently wonders if he'll be as excited when he and Mia find out the sex of their own baby. At this point, he isn't sure if he's leaning towards a boy or a girl.

He makes a mental note to ask Mia what the baby _feels_ like to her.

Though, he imagines, it's still too early to tell. It's mid-May, and their baby is expected to join them in November.

In November, Lucas Berry-Fabray will become a father, and Quinn Berry-Fabray will become a grandmother.

Rachel Berry-Fabray will never be a grandmother.

And, Luke suspects that's what bothers his mother so much.

_23rd March 2022_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_Tonight is going to be our first official night in the new house. I know I said we would be moving in at the beginning of the month, but Quinn got called away on another case in Maine. She was gone for almost two weeks._

_Our friends helped me move things into the house, though. We have a good group of them, and I hope you get to know all of them: Santana, Brittany, Kurt, Blaine, Noah, Meghan, Mercedes and Sam._

_Once the piano was in the chosen room, in that moment, it really felt like home._

_Home._

_We're home, Baby Berry-Fabray._

_Of course, though, we still have some unpacking to do. I'm tempted to make Quinn do all of it, but I'm actually enjoying this time with her. She seems at ease, somewhat settled. __The case she was working on was a rough one, and it took her a little while to come back to us (emotionally and mentally), and now I'm just basking in the light of her love and attention._

_She does this, you know? She carries the loss of all the victims on her shoulders, and bears the weight as if it's her burden. She doesn't allow herself to forget. (There are still cold cases she keeps in the study, and she goes back to them from time to time). _

_I don't know if it's all part of what happened with her family, or if she regards it as penance for her old teenage bullying ways, but I just wish she would sometimes let things go._

_Is that selfish of me?_

_It's just that, even though she won't accept it, her heart is too kind and her mind is too open. It's proven to be dangerous from time to time, but she's still the strongest person I know. To have survived her life and come out halfway decent is a true testament to how strong her character really is._

_You're going to love her._

Luke takes a moment to calm himself.

The love his other mother so clearly had for his mother is overwhelming. He just knows Quinn felt the same, if not more, and _that_ is why Quinn can never move on.

While Quinn has never allowed the loss to define her, she's also never moved beyond it, either. For as long as Luke can remember, Quinn Berry-Fabray has been a widow, and she'll always remain one.

_We got gifts from Maine, too. There's the most adorable stuffed lamb just waiting for you. She also bought this set of serving dishes, with sort of pyramid lids. They're painted beautifully, in such vibrant colours, and I honestly don't know where she found them in Maine, of all places. _

_I suggested we use them for the housewarming party Kurt and Noah are insisting we throw._

_Don't they realise I'm pregnant? We can't be throwing these big parties anymore. Maybe we'll just do a small dinner party. How does that sound? Would you be okay with that?_

_I sometimes wonder how it is for you in there. I know you can hear me, which is why I'm always talking to you, and playing sweet music for you. Do you know it's me when I'm talking? Do you know Quinn's voice when she reads to you? Do you get scared in there?_

_Because, the world can be scary._

_But, don't you worry. I'll keep you safe._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke, undoubtedly, prefers the lighter themed letters. He likes to hear she was happy living her life. As much as he wishes he was allowed the chance to _know_ her; he's just so glad to know she existed at all.

Not because, without her, _he_ wouldn't exist; but because the world needed to have Rachel Berry-Fabray.

Even for a little while.

_10th April 2022_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

_We've made it safely passed twenty-eight weeks, Sweetheart. The papers published an article about our latest visit to the doctor's, and they're all glad to hear that Baby Berry-Fabray is well and healthy._

_They have, though, started speculating on your gender and, thus, your name. Quinn and I sat for nearly twenty minutes laughing at the absurdity of it all. The names are positively ridiculous. __Which is why we finally decided on a name for you. _

_After a bit of a discussion - in which we debated on which name would be your first and which would be your second - we picked Lucas Rowan._

_Quinn's grandfather's name was Lucas (it's why her name is Lucy). He passed away when she was thirteen, and he was very important to her. It's not long after that she decided to become the Quinn of our high school days, and I always wonder how she would have turned out if he'd lived longer. _

_You should see her when she speaks about him. There's this light in her eyes that stops the world. I think he's the only shining light from that family of hers. It amazes me that Quinn even managed to come out of it as a relatively-functioning human being. _

_Grandpa Lucas was a hero to her, respite from the suffocating and painful atmosphere of her home, and I'll forever be thankful to him for offering her kindness when she didn't know anything else._

_Then there's Rowan._

_One day, you'll probably hear the story of how your parents finally got it right, but you should know it has a little something to do with a man named Rowan Belle. I don't think we're actually calling you Rowan in honour of him. Quinn likes the name, and it just so happens that Rowan is the first person ever to refer to Quinn as my girlfriend when the two of us emerged from my dorm room our sophomore year._

_She was in New York for a weekend visit - I tend to freak out when she's not with me on the anniversary of her car accident, so she makes sure to see me - and we were going out for dinner on Friday night just the two of us. I remember her helping me into my coat, and then opening the door for me. They were all actions I was used to, not really seeing the implication and significance until Rowan Belle casually said, "Yo, Berry, you going to introduce me to your girlfriend or what?"_

_To say I was shocked is an understatement. Quinn handled herself much better and, by the end of the evening, she was confessing she wouldn't actually mind being my girlfriend. Then, by Sunday, when she was supposed to be boarding a train back to New Haven, she FINALLY kissed me._

_We've been together ever since._

_So, you will be Lucas Rowan Berry-Fabray, and you will be named after one of the finest men Quinn has known and wished to know, and Rowan Belle. It puts a lot of pressure on your little shoulders, I know, to carry those names, but you'll grow into them. Your parents will help you._

_Be thankful, though. If the papers were actually to name you, you'd pray to be eighteen from the moment you're born. I won't even quantify their suggestions by writing them down._

_Our Special Agent Extraordinaire is currently in Washington D.C. She's trying to get us to go out there and visit her as an early Easter trip. I'm not convinced I _want_ to though, so we'll see. I'm getting bigger and bigger, and my feet hurt and I get irritable far too easily. I don't think travelling is for me right now, but then I can't help wondering when the next time will be that I can go on a little holiday._

_Maybe you and I will be going to D.C., after all. Would you like that? A little trip with Momma? I think I should take advantage of the fact that where I go, you go as well._

_Don't you worry. It won't always be that way._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke stares at the words. _It won't always be that way. _Did she know how right she would be?

Where she's gone, Luke can't follow.

Not yet, at least.

He still has so much life left to live.

_25th April 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_I just called you Luke. Is that okay? Should I stick with Lucas? _

_It's odd. I just feel like you would make a great Luke. Luke Berry-Fabray. It's a good, strong name._

_So, I just wanted to say Happy Easter (or, really, just Happy Spring Break, because I don't even know how people celebrate Easter), and tell you a little bit about how your - super boring - parents spent the holiday._

_I should tell you that you and I did end up going to D.C. and we spent a few days with Quinn. She was busy with surveillance most of the time, but she did make time for sightseeing with us. _

_Contrary to what people think, it is a pretty stunning place, and wonderful and so vibrant. (It can also be a bit drab, but Quinn gets excited over all the museums - she's really a nerd, you know?)_

_I went a little crazy with the shopping, which amused Quinn a great deal. I've never really been into that sort of thing, so it was a surprise for both of us. I suppose the city just managed to do that to me._

_Let's just say you got far more than just a kangaroo jumpsuit from that visit, little one. We've got all the clothes, but no wardrobe to put them in. Quinn promised we'll start work on the nursery when she got back. _

_We'll see how that goes. She's sometimes all talk, that one, and she's already been home for a few days._

_Anyway, Quinn went to church yesterday. I think, after everything she's been through in life, that her faith is a beautiful thing. She believes in God, and in a Higher Being, and I think it's something that's helped shape her into the wonderful woman she is._

_I'm Jewish. Sort of. _

_My Dad is Jewish._

_Quinn says I'm Jewish by culture, not religion. I'm not particularly religious, in the sense that I don't actively practice, but I do believe. Before we got married, Quinn and I decided that we would try to meld our lives and beliefs._

_(It hasn't really worked, because she's obsessed with bacon)._

_When it comes to you, though, our intention is to expose you to religion in its grand form. She's determined not to force anything onto you, the way it was forced onto her, and we want you to be able to make your own decisions about your beliefs when you're old enough. _

_I do think she's looking forward to being able to going to church with you and, I should admit, I'm eager to sing the hymns with you._

_I just really like to sing._

_Quinn likes to hear me sing._

_She doesn't explicitly say it - she'd rather complain about my endless singing around the house than admit it - but she wears this expression that gives her away. It's content, I've come to learn. It took me a while to place it, because the look is so foreign on her face._

_For so long, she's been… in pain. Dealing with a teenage pregnancy and getting kicked out of your home and family tends to do that to a person, but we're so proud of her. I'm so proud of this person she's become, and you should be too._

_We are so lucky, Luke._

_I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else, and neither should you._

_This is what I wish for you, Sweetheart. I wish for you to find a person to love, who makes your heart sing. Whoever that person may be, I hope you find the utmost happiness within them._

_And, believe me, if they don't treat you the way you deserve, I'll be sure to have a few words with them._

_Or, I'll just sic Quinn on them._

_Or, Noah. He can be a little bit scary when he wants to be._

_Just know that you already have an entire family who loves you, and will protect you._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke hurts.

Every part of him just hurts. He should have stopped at the last letter. This one hurts. This one, about family and love and happiness; it fucking _hurts_.

Luke closes the journal. His eyes are tired and he knows he has to call it a night, but he can't bring himself to move. He can't go to bed yet.

There's something else he has to do.

He stands and moves towards the piano. The room is already soundproofed, so, when he eventually starts to play, he doesn't have to worry about waking Mia. He plays a piece he composed when he was just sixteen years old. He called it _Rachel's Life_, and it's his absolute favourite out of everything he's done since then.

It's a true testament to his feelings towards his other mother. This woman, whom he idolises beyond reproach. He knows she had her faults - he's picked up on that enough in her journals - but there's nothing anyone can say to change his mind.

She was special, and she will forever remain that way.

_Rachel's Life_ is also the first piano piece he converted and wrote music to for an entire orchestra. It's the first piece he played at his first concert at Juilliard in his second year of study.

He imagines his other mother can hear it from wherever she is, and he likes to think she's proud.

Of him.

_And_ of his mother.


	2. From My Heart to Yours

**Part Two**

**From My Heart to Yours**

* * *

Luke's Monday is terrible.

He's tired and irritable, and he's painfully unsympathetic with the other musicians at Juilliard. All he really wants to do is sit quietly and read the journal of letters, but people _insist_ on visiting his office.

The problem is there's a concert coming up and the composition expected from Lucas Berry-Fabray is nonexistent. Everything he's tried to write just sounds wrong in some of the worst ways. He's been working on the baby's piece for more than a month and all he has is four lines that he kind of, somewhat, maybe doesn't hate, completely.

He has to explain his lack of progress in a lunch meeting with several other colleagues in the Department, which irritates him even more. The piece has to be ready, he's repeatedly told, so the orchestra has time to learn and rehearse before performance day.

Don't they know music can't be rushed?

They, out of everyone, should understand.

His other mother would.

* * *

By the time he makes it home that night, he's bone-tired and dangerously weary. He walks through the front door and smiles at the sound of music. It isn't Mia's live playing, but it's one of her recordings. It fills the entire house, spreading unmistakable warmth through his body as it always seems to be able to do.

Luke finds his wife in the kitchen, surrounded by what he would term 'a complete and utter mess.' There are dirty dishes everywhere, and ingredients spread around.

He's even too afraid to ask the question.

"Hi, babe," Luke eventually says, getting her attention.

Mia turns sharply and drops an empty metal bowl in the process. "What are you doing here?" she asks.

"Umm... I live here."

She frowns. "What time is it?"

"Just after six o'clock," he informs her. "What on earth are you doing?"

"I'm trying to make waffles," she confesses, sighing tiredly. "But the batter's so damn lumpy, and nothing's working, and I just... I want waffles."

Apparently, waffles are a Luke Berry-Fabray thing. It's his DNA, surely, that made his mother, and now makes his wife want waffles.

"I'll make them," Luke offers. "With fried chicken?"

She wrinkles her nose. "I know you're convinced that's a match made in heaven, but _I'm_ not."

"You don't know what you're missing," he comments, as he makes his way further into the kitchen. "Scoot then," he says. "Get out of my way."

Mia shoots him a look before she shuffles away from the stove. She moves to sit at the breakfast nook and watches him with curious eyes. "How was work?" she asks, picking up on some of his unease.

Luke visibly stiffens. "Fine," he says tensely.

"Still no inspiration?"

Luke merely nods as he clears up some space for himself on the counter. "I'm working on it," he says, silently willing her to drop the subject. "How was _your_ day?"

She sighs. "It was all right," she says. "I'm struggling with the timing of a particularly tricky bit in my piece. My fingers just don't go fast enough."

"Are you about to blame the pregnancy?" he asks, grinning at her as he wipes down the counter. He reaches into a cupboard to retrieve a fresh bowl to start a new waffle batter.

"No," she mutters with an irritated pout. "I just have to practice more."

"More than your usual six hours?" he teases.

"Shut up," she says with a huff, looking annoyed for a moment until her face breaks out into a wide smile. "Why are you being so mean to me?"

"Because I love you."

Mia gestures for him to go to her, and she kisses him soundly, holding the fabric of his shirt tightly in her fists. She's missed him, even if he's been right here with her. She releases him first. "Have you had a chance to read any letters today?" she asks.

Luke returns to preparing the waffle batter. "I haven't, no," he says. "I think it's why I've been a little antsy all day. I'm torn between wanting to read it all in one go, and staggering myself, because I don't want it to end. I never want it to end, but I know it does. Of course, it does."

She takes a deep breath. "I talked to Quinn today," she begins.

"Wait," he says, holding up a hand. "Just how often do you actually talk to my Mom?" he asks.

Mia laughs.

"Seriously," he says. "Do I have to be worried?"

"We're just two people who love you unconditionally in this world, Mr Berry-Fabray. Of course, we talk." She can't stop a yawn, and he almost melts at how adorable it is. "And, I was just confirming dinner for Thursday."

"She's still coming?"

"Of course."

Luke feels himself relax, though he's not even sure why. He wonders if his mother will be uncomfortable returning to this house; this house she couldn't stand to live in alone. As far as he knows, she survive three weeks and two days, before she moved out, shortly after he did.

"How did Sarah take the news?" he suddenly asks. "I didn't even ask, sorry. How was your brunch with the little sister monster?"

"Oh, she almost fell off her chair," she tells him, laughing lightly. "It was hilarious, and lovely, and we shared a little cry."

Luke frowns. "This whole crying thing," he says, shaking his head; "I don't think I get it."

She smiles. "I don't think I get it either," she admits; "but it's just what you feel, sometimes. A way to show the happiness."

He blinks. "I didn't cry when you told me you were pregnant."

"Not everybody cries when they're happy, Luke."

"But, you know I was happy, right?" he asks. "I _am_ happy. Very happy."

She just nods, choosing not to reply.

"I'm definitely terrified, but I'm excited as well."

"I know, Luke."

He nods. "As long as you know."

Mia's definitely worried about him. She's not sure the letters are proving to be a good idea at this point. He just seems so lost right now, and she doesn't know what's going to happen when he does finish reading the journal.

What happens to him when it's all over?

* * *

Straight after dinner, Mia disappears into her practice room with Luke following her in shortly after, having stayed in the kitchen to finish the dishes. There's nowhere for him to sit, because the room, itself, is completely empty, save for a single chair in its centre and Mia's cello.

Luke moves to sit himself in the corner of the room, leans against the wall and settles in to listen to her play.

The first time she plays the piece, he definitely hears the part she's struggling with, but he makes no comment. He knows she's aware of it, and musicians can get touchy, he's come to learn. Especially pregnant ones.

When she's done, she waits only a beat, and then proceeds to play it again.

Luke uses it as license to read.

Maybe he can find some inspiration from his other mother.

_3rd May 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_So, I have unofficially gone on maternity leave. My contract ran out on my show, and I obviously didn't renew because I am GIGANTIC._

_In the day to day, nothing has really changed about my life, save for the fact my manager now doesn't call me with scripts and auditions, and I have no public appearances scheduled until at least next year._

_Which is why we've decided it's now time to work on your nursery._

_Traditionally, a boy equals blue, but we're thinking of something different. I don't want to subject you to a stereotype, so we're sticking with white. White furniture, white everything. _

_We flipped a coin for the colour of the undertones. I picked red and Quinn picked gold (which are, incidentally, our opposite favourite colours)._

_I won._

_So, your carpet will be red, and your walls will have red-based designs. I suspect they'll be a bit of gold thrown in as well, just because I'm generous that way._

_There's a lot of work to do and Quinn's determined to do it all by herself. Call her crazy if you want - I did - but she's being incredibly stubborn about it. I had to remind her she's not a painter, and so she conceded to some outsourcing for the intricate designs._

_I think he'll get your Aunt Brittany in here just to spite me._

Luke is forced to look up when Mia suddenly stops and curses under her breath.

"I can't get it," she hisses.

He doesn't know what to say and, thankfully, she continues to play before he can open his mouth. He quickly realises she wasn't even talking to him. It's really as if he's not even in the room.

Those are musicians for you.

_We're going shopping for furniture tomorrow, which is always exciting. My Dad and I made a list of everything we'll need, and I think Quinn may just FaceTime him in the end while we're out. It would save us all a lot of time._

_Though, I think I'm the one who knows what you would like best. _

_And, I'm the one who's going to be spending the most time with you anyway, so I should have a greater say in what we get for you, right? Exactly._

_You WILL have a rocking chair, though._

_Don't you worry. I'll make sure of it._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke pauses his reading to glance up at Mia. She's still playing, her eyes closed and her body stiff.

"Relax," he finds himself saying, risking a bludgeoning.

She opens her eyes, but doesn't stop the movement of her hands. "What?"

"You know your body has to be relaxed," he says. She _does_ already know it, and he's surprised she even needs reminding. "You don't need me to tell you that."

She just nods, and then closes her eyes again, losing herself in the sound of the music.

Luke drops his gaze and resumes his reading.

_14th May 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_This, my dear, is a letter of complaint. I am so tired. Exhausted. Work was hard today. I know I said I was already on unofficial maternity leave, but, apparently, nobody knows that but me. __I had a full day in the studio, with the most stubborn song in all of existence. It just wasn't getting the right sound, and we were all so irritable, and I'm pretty sure you're squashing some vital organs in there._

_Did I mention I'm just so tired?_

_And, my feet hurt, and I have a headache, and all I want right now is fried chicken and a glass of WINE. My my, do I miss my wine._

_And, my wife is gone._

_She left last night for Boise. I didn't want her to go but there was nothing I could say. I just watched her pack her bag, and then I watched her leave. I didn't even kiss her goodbye._

_I mean, every time she leaves, I may never see her again. But, I was so damn stubborn and I just let her leave._

_I know I can't ask her to stay. I can't ask her to stop what she's doing just because I hate having her gone and I worry like a madwoman about her. She does good work. She does great work, and it would be so selfish of me to ask her to stop._

_Okay, now I'm crying._

_Stupid hormones._

_Don't you worry. I'm sure I'll be all right._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke can feel her frustration and, suddenly, he understands why his mother resigned from her FBI duties when she did. Quinn was away so much and, when Luke needed her, she stayed.

Luke can't help feeling a bit guilty about it. Quinn was a rising star in the Bureau, and then she gave it all up for her son.

He wonders if his other mother did end up talking to his mother about all these feelings. They had to have played a part in Quinn's decision to quit being an agent, surely.

_27th May 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_Your Aunt Santana just brought me some hot chocolate. It's hard not drinking coffee, and I desperately need some right now. I feel like I've been awake for days._

_It's just past midnight right now, and we're at Mount Sinai. Why? Because your mother is an idiot. She got herself injured (which is Quinn-speak for she did something stupid and a suspect shot her) in Boise, and she just arrived back in New York. We're just waiting for her to wake up now, but I've been assured the worst is over._

_I think I might have given you a little scare when Santana came to get me with the news - she works as a doctor at the hospital, in case I haven't mentioned it. I've had a bad feeling all week, and now I know why. I don't yet know what happened exactly but, from the looks on the other agents' faces, it was clearly bad. I'm just seeing the aftermath of her recovery from her initial injuries._

_She could have died. I know that much. She could have died, and I didn't even kiss her goodbye. _

_She could have died._

_Again._

_I'm so mad at her, and I'm so damn emotional, right now. I thought we were past all of this uncertainty; all this danger. But, apparently not._

_Does all of this give me license to ask her to stop?_

_We need her, Luke. And, if she ends up killing herself in this dangerous job, I will never forgive her. Never. I've even contemplated playing on her determination to be a good mother by asking her if she wants to leave you with only one parent._

_I won't. But I've thought about it. Does that make me a terrible person? It makes me feel horrible, and I quickly have to push the thoughts away._

_The thing is that I don't know if I'm thinking it because of you, or because of me. Or because of her, really. Wouldn't it just be the biggest injustice though? She survived her parents and a near-fatal car accident, only to die as a result of some failed FBI mission. It's so stupid._

_I'm sorry. I'm feeling a bit bitter right now. And I'm terrified. I don't even think I want to be here right now. I need to go home. I'm going to go home. I should get you home. We need rest. It's not good for us sitting here like this._

_Don't you worry. You will always be my number one priority._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Clearly, this was not a good time for his other mother.

For either of his parents, actually.

Luke looks up to see Mia set down her cello. She removes her jersey to reveal a t-shirt underneath. It's Luke's favourite one, by far. On its front, it says, 'I only date musicians.'

Quinn _made_ it for her the week after Luke introduced his mother to his girlfriend of _eight months_, knowing already she was going to be the woman he would marry.

He worried Quinn would be angry with him for waiting so long to make the introductions. It was a conscious decision, he knows, because Mia already _knew_ who his parents were, and there's always been a level of expectation when it comes to the whole 'meet-the-parents' spiel involving the famous Quinn Berry-Fabray. (There have been very awkward meetings over the years, with girls dating him _because_ of who his parents are, _and_ Quinn can be unintentionally intense when the girls genuinely like Luke).

As a result, Luke and Mia were both nervous about it, but Quinn did all she could to make sure her son knew everything was okay, casually joking about Luke keeping Mia all to himself because she was bound to be charmed away from him by Quinn.

As long as Luke was happy, Quinn said.

Luke guesses that was the moment Mia fell in love with his mother.

"Everything all right?" Mia asks.

"My mom got injured the May before I was born," he explains. "My, uh, other mother was, umm, feeling a lot of emotions at the time. She was worried about what she would do if anything ever happened to Quinn. She thought it would be selfish to ask her to stop the work she was doing."

"As an agent?"

He nods. "It's no secret to the world she's escaped death so many times already, but I think the fact there was a baby on the way made it worse. Quinn could have died."

Mia looks thoughtful. "It must be weird for you, reading that and hearing her voice the fears that became your mom's reality."

"They were so in love, Mia," he says, breathing out, slight wonder in his tone. "I'm overwhelmed by it. They were so young, and so happy, and so imperfect and perfect at the same time. The way she sees Quinn; the way she talks about her.

"She's always just been my _mom_, you know? So strong and aware and broody and attentive. And to see her the way my other mother saw her; she's so much _more_."

Mia waits for him to continue, realising he needs her silence in this moment.

"She's selfless and humble, and she's always done everything for me. She's made sacrifices in her career and life, and she still thinks she wasn't enough. How can she think that? How can _I_ allow her to think that?"

Mia doesn't know if she should go to him. There are things he's working through and she wants nothing more than to help him but, right now, she doesn't know how.

Luke sighs. "I have to keep reading," he eventually says, coming to the only conclusion he can.

"Okay."

He gives her a small smile, but he still looks somewhat distracted. "I love you," he says quietly, before he drops his head.

He doesn't start reading until she begins to play again.

_5th June 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_I have a bit of a confession, and I hope you won't hate me for it. I've always wanted to be honest with you, and that isn't about to change._

_I'm not ready for you._

We're _not ready for you._

_Tonight is supposed to be my baby shower, but I'm not feeling in a celebratory mood. I haven't seen Quinn since I left Mount Sinai the last time I wrote. I can't bring myself to see her. I don't know what I'll end up saying to her if I do. I'm still mad at her, but I just miss her so much._

_Your Aunt Santana told me she was discharged a few days ago. I'm not at home with her, even though I desperately want to be. I don't know if you'd understand, because I don't quite understand it myself._

_Things have been a little up in the air lately. I'm at home with my parents in Lima, and Quinn hasn't tried to see me. I suspect she's still getting her strength up. She lost a lot of blood, as I've been told and, if she'd been shot just a millimetre to the right, she would be dead._

_I keep thinking I'm overreacting, but my Dad assures me I'm not. I have a right to be scared, and a right to deal with it the way I need to. I know I have to talk to Quinn about all of this and more, but I don't know how. She's finally found something she loves to do, and I can't bring myself to take it away from her._

_I can't bring myself to say the words to her that, if she loves us more, she would stop. I can't do it, but I want to, and I hate myself for it._

_I handled it better before I found out about you. This is not your fault. It's mine. It's ours. We thought we were ready. _I_ thought we were ready, but I was wrong._

_I was wrong, and I'm terribly sorry we're dragging you into all of this._

_Maybe we're too young. Maybe we should have waited longer, I don't know._

_We're just four weeks away from your arrival, and the last thing I want is for you to come into a world where things are still so rocky._

_So, don't you worry. I'll sort this all out._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke closes his eyes for a moment.

He can feel _everything_, and he hates it. It's so heartbreaking, really. His parents went through quite a bit before his arrival, and he didn't even know. He couldn't have known.

All her worries, the way she wrote about them; they give him anxiety, even nearly twenty seven years later.

_14th June 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_We're back home!_

_I know I said I would sort things out, but I needn't have bothered. Quinn did everything. Without my having to say so, she recognised what the problem was and fixed it._

_It turns out that, even before all of this drama I caused, she already put in a request to work only local cases, which would have her work solely in New York. It would have gone into effect as soon as you were born. She refrained from telling me until yesterday, for some reason. Had me all worried and stressed out for nothing._

_It's still a dangerous job, but it would keep her home. It's a compromise I feel comfortable with._

_She's recovered well, apparently, but she still looked quite a sight when she showed up at my parents' house yesterday morning and practically demanded to see me. I didn't even realise how much I missed her until I laid eyes on her. She looked like she aged in the time we've been apart, and she looked positively miserable._

_I was sitting up on my bed when she found me, and she dropped to her knees and just stared at the both of us. I think she was shocked by how big I am. Even I'm shocked by it. I mean, I can't even remember what my feet look like. For all I know, they aren't even there anymore, but Quinn assures me they are._

_We talked for hours. She eventually climbed onto the bed with me and cradled us in her arms. I've never felt so safe in all my life. Did you feel it? Did you feel her come home to us?_

_Then, we napped. _

_I nap a lot, apparently._

_When I woke up, she practically kidnapped me, clearly stating to both me and my parents: "I'm taking my wife home." It was quite amusing and adorable. _

_And several other things, but we won't talk about that._

_So, here we are. You and I are back home in New York, and Quinn is busy in the kitchen preparing what she termed a romantic dinner of fried chicken and waffles. She's also wearing her ridiculous kangaroo outfit, which is hilarious._

_She didn't want me out of her sight, so you and I are sitting at the breakfast nook - it's still a wonder how I got up onto this stool when I can't even put on my own shoes - in the kitchen with our Special Agent Extraordinaire._

_While I've been away, she finished up your nursery, and it's perfect. It's a room I would want to bring you home to. It's core colour is white, as I said, and then there's the red and gold for the superstar you're going to be._

_Though, don't feel any pressure to shine in all the ways, okay? It won't break our hearts if you're happy being an accountant, or something like that. There's no pressure from us, so try not to focus on the pressure sure to come from everywhere else, all right?_

_It'll be hard for you, being the son of Quinn and Rachel Berry-Fabray, but I've got a plan to shield you from most of it. I think._

_Kind of._

_We're still up in the air about a lot of things, but I can't wait for you to get here._

_I intend to expose you to lots and lots of things. I'm going to make sure you explore the Arts and Music of the world, as well as all those strange things Quinn likes to call sports. She was kind of a rockstar in her own right, you know? Nationals winning cheerleading captain and she played soccer at Yale._

_(It's a wonder I didn't find her incredibly attractive sooner than I did)._

_I want you to be fully assimilated to both worlds, because you are, essentially, a product of both worlds, and it's important to me that you recognise that._

_I just told Quinn all of this, and she nodded without commenting. There she goes again with the whole giving me everything I want thing. Oh, don't you just love her?_

_And, I've also just told her what this journal really is. She seemed pleasantly surprised, and she asked if I write about her._

_If only she knew... She'd probably have a heart attack if she knew just how much I've already told you. She hates it when the focus is on her, but she's so cute when you embarrass her. Her cheeks go pink and she forgets how to speak. Sometimes, she just says 'shut up' repeatedly, which is hilarious._

_I do it on purpose more often I should. I'm sure you'll end up doing the same._

_Don't you worry. It'll be our little secret._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke is quick to make a vow to himself to increase the number of times he embarrasses his mother. Just to honour his other mother.

Even just thinking about it, he can't help the smile on his face.

"What has you smiling like that?" Mia asks, interrupting Luke's thoughts.

"Have you ever noticed what happens to my mom when she's embarrassed?" he asks, his smile only growing.

"If you're referring to her pink cheeks and the fact that she turns into a mumbling mess, then yes."

Luke laughs. "My, umm, other mother loved to embarrass her because of it."

"I can imagine why that was," Mia says, returning his smile. "It's rather funny, really. I mean, Quinn is supposed to be this super stoic leader of men and women and what not, and she can barely handle a compliment."

"Leader of men and women, huh?"

Mia shrugs. "She's a national hero, and she's trained every single agent in behavioural science and surveillance to come out of the the New York office since you were six years old. Totally a leader of men and women."

_Leader of men and women_.

It's true.

On top of being Luke's mother, Quinn Berry-Fabray is, somewhat single-handedly, responsible for the calibre of agents being sent out into the _New York_ field once they've graduated from Quantico.

It makes Luke feel incredibly proud.

Quinn only went back to work when Luke started primary school. He attended a prestigious private school in Manhattan, as he later learned his other mother wanted.

It was at this school that Luke first learned to play the piano. As a child, he always felt somewhat connected to the piano in their house, and he never did understand Quinn's reaction when he asked if he could take lessons.

All Quinn did was nod and then excuse herself.

Now, Luke suspects she might have left the room to cry, but she didn't want her son to see her. For years, and even now, Quinn Berry-Fabray protected her son from the pain of the tragic loss from which she has never truly recovered.

"I once asked her if she was disappointed I didn't follow her into the FBI, you know?" Luke says. "She wasn't."

"I could have told you that."

Luke lets out a light laugh. "She told me that part of the reason she became an agent was to make up for all the wrongs she did as a teenager. She didn't regret her decision, but she knew she did it for reasons that weren't truly pure. She didn't want me to feel obliged to make decisions based on anything other than my happiness, and following her into such a career might have done that. She didn't want that for me, but I think she's always known I went into music to emulate my other mother."

"Do you regret it?"

"No."

"Your mom loved her job," Mia says. "You love yours. If it came down to it; if you were ever forced to give up your job for me, or for our baby, would you?"

"In a heartbeat."

"Your mom taught you that," she gently says.

He chuckles. "Seriously, how often do you talk to her? It's okay. You can tell me."

Mia just smiles at him before resuming her playing position, starting her piece again.

Luke watches her for a moment, before he returns his attention to the journal.

_1st July 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_It's officially July, which means it's officially your birthday month._

_Today also happens to be your Uncle Sam's birthday. Quinn and I are going to head over to their place later tonight for a little dinner party._

_To be honest, I'm not that keen on going anywhere tonight - or until you're born. I just feel so big and fat and ugly. And my feet are swollen. I'm big enough to pop, I reckon. _

_Are you ready to come out of there? Because, I'm ready to have you out. I'd like to see my feet and stand up and sit down without requiring a five-step procedure._

_I don't think I mean it, though. I think I'll miss being pregnant. It's been nice constantly having you with me. Like this, I get to keep you safe; I can protect you. But, once you're out here, my job gets a lot more difficult._

_I always thought that nine months was such a long time, but it's just flown by. You're going to be here soon, and we'll officially become parents. That's going to be a huge change for us. My Dad is going to stay with us for the first few weeks, just to help us adjust, and to make sure we get sleep._

_Quinn had me prepare a hospital bag last night. Well, really, I sat on our bed and just pointed to things as she packed the bag. It's really out of character for her to be so prepared. She wasn't impressed when I mentioned that to her._

_Dr Mess is on call from now on. We picked out your coming-home outfit, which is not your kangaroo outfit, in case you're wondering. Your room is also waiting for you. So, really, whenever you want out of there, we're ready for you._

_I'm ready for you now._

_I'm sorry about our little crisis. I think it was something we needed to go through to get to this point. I've already gone on OFFICIAL maternity leave and Quinn gets off as soon as I go into labour._

_Can you believe the papers have started something of a countdown. They don't know your exact due date but, given my size, they've managed to guess. They're sure it's any day now. As am I._

_I just have a feeling._

_I had this thought the other day. I'd just dreamt of going into labour, which I'm a little afraid of, if I'm being honest. Quinn and I have attended the necessary classes, but I'm sure it's all going to go the dogs when we actually get in there. _

_So, my thought was, you know, seeing as you ARE Quinn Berry-Fabray's son, don't you just want to beam yourself out of there or something? It would save us all a lot of trouble._

_I'm kidding. Sort of. I know it's going to hurt. I'm definitely no stranger to pain but, you know, I'm not sure I believe people who say that giving birth is a beautiful thing._

_We'll see how much I love you once I have to push you out of, umm, there._

_Don't you worry. I really am kidding. Sort of._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke lets out a laugh.

Mia glances at him, her playing coming to a gentle stop. "What?"

"How do you feel about actually having to give birth?" he asks.

She tilts her head. "Well, one of us has to do it," she teases. "And, I'm afraid you don't have the right parts for the job."

"Funny."

She grins at him. "Why are you asking?"

"She was a bit worried about it," he tells her. "The _process_ of it."

"Understandable."

He smiles. "I think I've reached the last letter before my birth," he says. "I don't know if she wrote much after that." He absently pages through the journal, relieved to see more writing, but not as much as he hoped.

"You must have been a handful."

He fakes a laugh.

"Maybe we should call it a night then?" she offers. "Will you come to bed with me, Mr Berry-Fabray?"

He cocks his head to the side. "I'm sorry, but I'm married."

She laughs out loud. "Funny."

Luke gets to his feet, tucks the journal under his arm and moves towards her. He helps her with the cello and carefully seals it in its case.

Together, they leave the room and go about getting ready to turn in for the night. Luke does the usual checks on all the house doors and windows before retiring to bed.

Mia isn't asleep yet, so she snuggles in nice and close to him when he climbs in beside her.

Without giving it a thought, Luke's hand comes to rest on her abdomen.

"Mia?" he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"Do you feel safe?"

"I do," she says truthfully. "As long as I'm with you, I do."

"Don't you worry," he says, his breath warm against her skin. "I'll always be here. For both of you."

* * *

Luke's Tuesday goes about as well as his Monday.

He goes in to work with the intention of writing _something,_ but he keeps drawing a blank.

The few lines of the baby-inspired piece are all he has, but nothing seemed to be growing from them. It's proving to be a problem and Luke's supervisor, Ryan Hawthorne, expects even a semblance of a piece by the end of the week.

Luke doesn't know if he can produce.

In his mind, he's sure he won't be able to write another note of music until he finishes with the letters.

It's just that simple.

So, once he's finished with his last student meeting of the afternoon, he moves from his desk, settles on his couch and opens the journal.

He's been a little hesitant to read on, given that he's reminded the journal will eventually come to an end.

But, for his own sake, he _has_ to finish.

_9th July 2022_

_My dear, dear baby Luke_

_Welcome home, Sweetheart. _

_We're finally home, you and I._

_On the 4th of July of this wonderful year, I gave birth to the most perfect, healthy baby boy. Ten toes and ten fingers. You came in at 8lbs exactly, and you have dark hair and these large, striking green eyes. _

_You're not exactly a carbon copy of Quinn, but it's pretty close. Your hair is closer to the colour of mine, and you have my eyebrows, and Quinn's pouty lips._

_Let's hope you have my brain as well._

_Don't tell Quinn I said that, even though I'm sure she'll agree with me. I hope you don't end up with my nose, though. That would be unfortunate for everyone involved._

_We watch you sleep. I hope that doesn't sound as creepy as it usually would. It's just it's absolutely amazing that you even exist. Is it too romantic of me to think of you as a product of the love Quinn and I share for each other?_

_You sleep a lot, by the way, so we spend a lot of time watching you. We take turns, really, because my Dad made it clear to us it's important for us to sleep when you sleep, if we don't want to burn ourselves out._

_I'm so happy, Luke. I really am. And, I think I get it now. Giving birth to you; it really was a beautiful thing. Quinn was in there with me the entire time. She handled it so well, which I expected, given her own experience. Still. She's quite good in chaotic situations, and this was one of them._

_I have to admit I opted for a bit of pain relief. But not too much. Apparently, it's not good to be completely numb, because, apparently, all sorts of embarrassing things can happen. I just hope Quinn still finds me remotely attractive after having seen all of that._

_You're nursing well, by the way. It's a truly special connection that you and I have. Quinn won't get to experience this with you, but that's all right. The two of you will have many years to bond in other ways._

Luke stops reading immediately, his breath getting stuck in his throat.

They _have_ had many years to bond, because Quinn is still _here_. She made sure to be around for _all_ of it.

_Sometimes, Quinn just disappears, and I find her with you, just watching you. She has this look on her face that I can't explain. She just looks so content, so happy and satisfied with this life, and I gave that to her. I gave _you_ to her, and it's everything she's ever wanted. I can't even explain to you what that feels like for me, to be the one to give this all to her._

_She keeps saying thank you. Constantly. Every time she looks at me, it's as if her eyes are saying the words as well. She loves us so much, Luke. It's been like heaven._

_Don't you worry. I intend for it to be like this always._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke feels a bit giddy. He brought her happiness. It's amazing to know he was responsible for bringing a smile to her face.

To both their faces.

_19th July 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_I'm tired. I'm so tired. I get it, you're a growing boy and all, but do you really have to drink so much? My Dad says it's a good idea to keep you on breastmilk for at least a year, but I don't think I can do it. One full year? It's too long._

_You are, thankfully, a rather quiet baby. You really only fuss when you're tired, hungry or need a diaper change. Your eyes are so focused as well; it's terribly disarming. It's like you see everything._

_You've been sleeping in our bedroom, so we can keep a close eye on you. My Dad spent a few nights on a mattress on our floor while we got accustomed to everything. We've all been getting really up close and personal these days. _

_Look at you; you've brought us all together._

_Your aunts and uncles are going to come and see you tomorrow. I've spent quite some time picking out the perfect outfit for you. I'm such a typical mother. I just want everyone to see how cute you are. Because you are. You're entirely adorable, and I'm not just saying that because I'm your mother. I'm not biased - okay, I might be a little but, you're just really stinking cute._

_Just, you know, try not to vomit on your outfit. You've been quite good about it because it turns out Quinn is a burping God. She can just get it out of you so well; it looks as if it even surprises you. I didn't think I could find burping so amusing, but it is. It really is._

_Quinn's also a machine at getting you to sleep. My Dad and I call her the baby whisperer. I hope she holds onto her talents for a really long time. We're definitely going to need them as you get older._

_So, now that you're actually asleep, I'm going to get some shut-eye as well._

_Don't you worry, though; I'll be up when your eyes open again._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Without having to have read any of this, Luke already knew Quinn is going to be an amazing grandmother. The way she adjusted to being a mother proves as much to Luke.

Not that he needs any proof.

It's something he's really always known.

_4th August 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_You are officially one month old now. Quinn and I had ourselves a little party. We've survived an entire month of being parents, and nothing's happened to you. We haven't even dropped you, and we haven't had to take you in to see your doctor._

_All is well. _

_I'm less tired than I usually am. I think I've adjusted to the lack of sleep quite well. I'm just pretending I'm back in school again, using most of my time to study. __Now, instead, I'm using my time to be a mother._

_The three of us went for a little walk earlier. It's quite warm out, but we still had you nicely wrapped up, mainly because the entertainment world still wants to lay eyes on you. All we could see was your little pink face. Have I told you how adorable you are?_

_Quinn actually goes back to work on Wednesday. I think she's keen to get back, but I'm sure she'll miss you. Every new thing you do is like an entire experience for the two of us. Even the sounds you make when you're asleep fascinate us._

_I find myself wondering about your dreams. You haven't experienced enough life to have nightmares yet, right? And, technically, you dream only of the faces you've seen, and you've only seen faces of people who love you, so I'm hoping to keep the nightmares from you for a long time._

_My favourite thing you do is quite a funny thing, really. You mainly do it when you're asleep. I think it's to do with your dreams, but you sort of get a scare, and your arms lift up for a surprised moment, like you're a little zombie. It makes me so happy; I don't even know why. It's just another thing you may never understand about your mother._

_As for Quinn; I'm afraid we may never understand her._

_Don't you worry, though; I'll make notes on everything I've already discovered._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke takes note of the shortness of the recent letters.

Having a baby must have been time-consuming, and he tries to appreciate that she kept them up even after he was born.

_4th September 2005_

_Dear Luke_

_I was surprised by how long it's been since I wrote. I'm sorry about that. I've been busy living this wonderful life with you._

_You're two months old today. _

_We made it, little one._

_I talk to you a lot. I read it's important not to use what's called a 'baby voice,' because we don't want you to mimic that. You'll learn faster that way. But, remember, no pressure._

_I also play the piano for you almost every day. We have a little routine going, you and I. I haven't gone back to work yet. I'm supposed to go back into the studio next month, but I haven't yet decided if I will. I'm enjoying being with you a little too much. I think Quinn's jealous of it, which is totally understandable. You're a delight._

_You're always looking around, making eye contact with both of us. You're also smiling, which is amazing. You have the cutest little smile. Quinn almost fell over the first time you smiled at her. We're tracking your little milestones, and we're so happy you've turned out as healthy as you have._

_You also coo a bit. Not yet on cue, but it's a welcome break from your crying to communicate. Momma hears you, sweetheart. I hear you, and I love you._

_We're about to go for a walk. The fresh air really is lovely for us both. It's not healthy being cooped up inside all day. It's also good for you to see new people and experience new things._

_Don't you worry. I'll make sure to keep that up._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke absently checks the clock on the wall of his office. It's just gone four o'clock, and he contemplates calling it a day and going home. He _can_, because there's no need for him to be here anymore.

Maybe, he can visit his mother.

No.

His mother's at work.

And his wife's in rehearsals until at least six o'clock.

All Luke knows is that he doesn't want to be here anymore.

So, packing up his things, he leaves his office and makes his way to the one place he knows he can go to be closer to the one person he'll never know.

He goes to visit his other mother.

The cemetery isn't empty of people, but nobody pays any attention to him. While he's been shielded from a lot of his parents' fame, it's not unheard of that he would be recognised by some die-hard fans. It might have been more than two decades since Rachel Berry was on stage or screen, but she's gone down in history for her timeless work.

Luckily, he's able to make his way towards his other mother's grave without incident. He doesn't have to watch where he's going; he already knows the way by heart.

When he approaches her tombstone, Luke slows his pace. He hasn't visited her since Christmas, and he feels a little guilty about it. They're still a few months from the anniversary of her death - kismet has it being the same date his baby is due - but he just wants to see her _now_.

Her tombstone is crafted beautifully, and the plot beside hers is empty, just waiting for his mother. Quinn Berry-Fabray will be buried beside her wife, as has been planned for years.

Luke absently wonders what her tombstone will say. He'll probably end up in charge of it.

Quinn was in charge of his other mother's, and it shows.

**Rachel Barbra Berry-Fabray  
18 December 1993 - 18 November 2023  
Loving daughter, devoted wife,  
proud mother and amazing best friend.**

**"So, I throw up my fists, throw a punch in the air,  
and accept the truth that sometimes life isn't fair.  
Yeah, I'll send down a wish and I'll send up a prayer,  
and finally someone will see how much I care."**

Luke immediately drops to the ground and leans against the side of the tombstone. He feels closest to his other mother when he's here, and he vows to visit more often. He used to come all the time with Quinn, and he absently wonders if his mother still visits as often as he remembers.

He settles into place and pulls out the journal, but he doesn't immediately start reading.

"Hi," he says softly, practically whispering. "I know it's been a while. I'm sorry about that. Things have been happening lately." Which is probably an understatement at this point. "See, the thing is, I'm going to be a father. Mia and I, we're going to have a baby. A baby.

"I'm scared. Like, a lot, but you were, too, weren't you? I've been reading the letters you wrote. Thank you for them. Thank you for all of it." He sighs. "Do you mind if I just sit here and continue to read?" He pauses, waiting for a moment. "Thanks."

_21st September 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_Oh, Luke. Guess where I am right now? _

_Mount Sinai. _

_Quinn Berry-Fabray got injured again._

_This time, though, it really wasn't her fault. _

_In fact, I think it's mine. _

_See, we were over at your Uncle Kurt and Uncle Blaine's today, and Quinn was involved in a game of touch football with a few people. You should know she's quite the competitive person, so the game turned quite heated._

_Anyway, Quinn was in there, waiting to make a play (I think that's the lingo) - she's really fast, by the way. And, well, I might have distracted her. I'm sorry. I just had to tell her that you actually laughed, and she was distracted, which meant she wasn't paying attention when Noah was headed her way, completely catching her unawares._

_So, we're here. _

_Anyone else and we probably wouldn't have come to the hospital, but Quinn has a habit of injuring herself, and she suffered a back spasm when she hit the ground, which has happened a few times since the accident._

_I'm sure she's going to hold this over my head for quite some time. At least, she's being a good sport about it._

_We left you at Kurt and Blaine's with Carole, who's been visiting New York. She absolutely adores you, by the way. You're not her first grandchild (we're all a big family here), but I like to think you're her favourite._

_About this entire family thing…. It can get a little weird, I'll give you that. Both Quinn and I have been involved with Finn, and with Noah, however briefly._

_Eventually, we wised up and cut the boys out altogether._

_But, it can get awkward, particularly with Finn. I think, even all these years later, he harbours a certain resentment towards Quinn, and towards me to some extent._

_I try not to hold it against him._

_Sort of._

_Quinn probably won't ever tell you about any of her past relationships. (Five bucks says she never reveals she dated your Uncle Sam)._

Luke laughs.

He has to.

It's true his mother has never explicitly told him about her high school romance with Sam. It doesn't surprise him that Quinn has been so hush hush about it.

Everything that came before the love for his other mother obviously didn't matter.

Luke knows that.

_Oh, a nurse just came by to tell us Quinn's fine, and she's up and about. I'm going to go in and see her now. I'm sure she'll have a few things to tease me about now. Wish me luck._

_Don't you worry. I can take care of myself._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke can't help his smile. He loves the fact that, even though they were already parents, they didn't become too serious.

He hopes he and Mia will be the same.

_11th November 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_It seems to me that I tend to write to you when you reach your milestones. You're four months and one week old today, and you're a babbling little bundle of joy. I'm sorry I don't write as often. It feels like it's been ages since I last even looked at this journal._

_You're so inquisitive, your eyes constantly dart about, searching and learning. I don't think I've seen another human being so excited about the fact that you rolled over. You should have seen Quinn. She practically leaped off the ground. _

_We're so proud of you, little one._

_Both of us._

_Halloween was actually rather pleasant. We decided on staying in, which is always nice. We all dressed up as kangaroos, of course. We looked great. I forced Quinn into a family picture. It'll be our family Christmas card, I've decided. You looked so darn cute._

_And, despite what Quinn thinks, she still looked very pretty._

_It was a good night for us. We talked quite a bit. Remember, Luke, communication is essential in relationships. _

_Don't stew, and make sure you never go to bed angry._

_Quinn actually left for Quantico today. She's going to be gone for a few days. There's a training conference being held there, so it's just you and me. It's the first time she's been away from the both of us, but she calls every day, and the two of us talk to her before you go off to sleep. _

_You're a pretty good sleeper, and it's our intention to maintain your sleep schedule._

_Our entire lives revolve around you, and I wouldn't have it any other way. If I had it my way, that would never change. And, because of it, I've decided to hold off on going back to work. I had a long discussion with Quinn about it, and I decided it's what I want._

_I still do my writing from home, so, you know, it's not all doom and gloom. Quinn and Noah set up a little studio for me in the basement of the house. I'm still working on a lullaby album for you, so watch this space._

_Don't you worry, Luke. I've got you._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke feels his heart twist in his chest because, as far as he knows, his other mother never got around to finishing said album.

She ran out of time.

_18 December 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_Okay, so it seems to me that the time between letters just keeps increasing. I'm too busy living life, I suppose. It's one of the reasons I stopped writing journals in the first place._

_Today's a sad day, though, little one. I am officially a cougar once more. It's been a good day, though. I woke up to breakfast in bed. Can you guess what it was? Waffles!_

_Quinn had to go into work, though, so you and I spent the morning with Uncle Kurt and Aunt Brittany._

_I'm twenty-nine now, but I feel so much older._

_You're making all sorts of sounds now, and you reach and grab for things. You especially love Quinn's glasses. You can almost sit up, and your development is great. We talk to you a lot, and you try to respond. I'm sure it all makes sense to you and sometimes you look so serious, as if you're telling us something extremely important. You are truly remarkable and adorable._

_We're headed to dinner in a little while. As soon as Quinn gets home, she'll get ready, and then we'll head out. It's my first birthday as a mother, and the first one I get to celebrate with you._

_Don't you worry. I won't go too overboard._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke wishes there was a way for him to go back to that time, maybe have a cup of tea with his other mother, just talk to her.

Hear her voice.

Have her smile at him.

Just, _something_.

_25th December 2022_

_Dear Luke_

_Merry Christmas, my sweet baby boy. It's our first Christmas with you, and Quinn and I wanted it to be special for you, full of love and so much family._

_We bought you a little Santa hat that says: 'Santa's Little Helper.' It's probably the cutest picture I have of you. Honestly. And, this isn't my being biased, even though I've been known to be._

_We just got back from the Hudson-Hummels, because we finally made it to Lima. My parents joined us for the celebrations, mainly because I wasn't feeling up to carting you between all the grandparents. _

_You get fussy when we have to leave places, which is what happened today. Everybody dotes on you, you know, being the youngest addition to the extended family so far. Your Aunt Brittany is pregnant again, though, so don't expect it to last forever._

_You're too young to ask for what you want, so Quinn and I had to guess. We mainly went for toys. She tried to convince me you were old enough for your first toy soccer ball but, I mean, you can't even walk yet… so, how's about no? _

_Maybe for your birthday, okay? I'm just a little too protective, and I'm definitely not in a rush for you to grow up._

_Don't you worry, though; I doubt I'll always be this way._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke can't actually remember his first soccer ball, but he guesses his other mother must have fought Quinn on the matter until she had no more ammunition.

She probably rolled over in her grave every time Quinn took him onto the soccer pitch. He didn't really take to the sport - or, really, any sport. It was always music with him, and he wonders how much is actually pained his mother finally to accept it.

_11 January 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_It's the new year, Sweetheart. It was a relatively low-key celebration for us, just the three of us here in New York. We watched the fireworks from our balcony, and I can't even explain to you how lovely it was witnessing your fascination with the bright lights._

_Every little thing you do constantly amazes me._

_So, Quinn is turning twenty-nine next month, and I've been trying to figure out what we should do for her. She hates being the centre of attention, but I can't help it. She'll be twenty-nine. _

_Finally, we'll be the same age again, if only for a little while. I sometimes hate that I'm older than her. She absolutely loves to call me a cougar. Can you imagine? That awful, awful woman._

_I also have to think of a present, even though she's repeatedly told me I've given her the best present she could ever ask for: a family. __For certain, I thought she'd say _you_, but she says _a family_, which includes me. That wonderful, wonderful woman. Didn't I tell you she was great?_

_I realise I've contradicted myself quite spectacularly, but she's a woman of many talents. And interests._

_It makes it really difficult to pick the perfect present for her. Asking her is useless, as well, because (excuse this snippet into your parents' sex life) she always does this thing where she trails her eyes over the length of my body and says, "You."_

_Find yourself someone who looks at you the way Quinn looks at me, and you'll be happy the rest of your days._

_Don't you worry. I know they're out there._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke likes to think she would approve of the person he's chosen. Who's chosen him, really. Amelia Loren had her pickings of the Juilliard students, and she seemed to like him, for whatever reason.

They were friends first, thrown together in a composition class their sophomore year. He thinks that's why they work so well together.

They were friends first.

Like his parents.

Just, you know, without all the tormenting beforehand.

_12 February 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_Quinn is finally twenty-nine years old. I'm no longer a cougar, though not technically. It just makes me feel better knowing she's the same age as me. Call me crazy; I don't care._

_We had a dinner party at our place last night. It was quite nice, nothing too fancy, which is what she likes._

_After that, though, I kidnapped her. You went home with Kurt and Blaine for a sleepover while your parents had a nice night off of responsibility. _

_I love you, I do; but it was amazing just to be out on the town with my significant other. It's just that h__aving a baby really can put a dampener on romance._

_We still love you, of course, but we have to remember to love each other. Remember that, when you have kids, all right._

_I know the last thing you want is to hear about your parents' sex life, so I'll spare you the gory details. Just know that your parents truly do love each other, and don't you worry, because that'll never change._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke doesn't know why, but it's such a relief to hear the truth of their love. He knows, without a doubt, his mother loved his other mother, and now he's getting the opportunity to see just how much she loved her in return.

Sure, in her journals before they got married, she alluded to it all, but this is different.

This is Quinn and Rachel as they were, a power couple beyond measure, who loved each other so fiercely that, to this day, Quinn Berry-Fabray is still devastated by the death of her loving wife.

Luke moves on to the next letter, hating that they seem to be getting shorter and shorter.

_20 February 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_It's that time of year, and Quinn has gone quiet. She, sometimes, gets this faraway and thoughtful look in her eyes, and I just want her to come back to us._

_It doesn't help that she just wrapped up a particularly gruelling case at work. I won't go into the details, but there is now yet another orphan in this world. _

_Quinn, technically, isn't an orphan, but she feels as if she's one. She hasn't seen any members of her family since she came out. I don't think any of them even know you exist._

_She takes these kinds of cases hard because she believes it's up to her to save everyone, and she regards it as a personal failure when she can't. She can't handle what she believes is unjust and unfair._

_Too many people have been lost to her in her life, and she wants to save everyone she can._

_So, I'm trying to figure out what to do. I don't think trying to convince her to talk to me about it will help - she'll just blush and then disappear into some empty room. _

_And brood. She broods a lot._

_Now that you're crawling, you do keep us very occupied. I didn't realise how fast a baby could crawl. You're a little speed demon, did you know that? We've had to baby-proof quite a bit because you're still so inquisitive. It was a lot easier to keep track of you when you couldn't move by yourself._

_Sometimes, I ask you to sit still, just to see if you will. _

_You don't, by the way._

_Don't you worry, though; all in good time._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke checks his watch. Can he fit in one more before he has to head home?

Yes, yes he can.

_25 March 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_Again, it's been more than a month. This is terrible form. I'm sorry about that. I don't really have much of an excuse beyond the fact you and I have been writing some music. _

_There's a song you really seem to like, based on the way you shake your butt in some way you must think is dancing. It's called 'Another Story,' and it's a little tale about the way Quinn's and my loves could have gone, had we not accepted we loved each other._

_I shudder to think of a world where you don't exist._

_Also, you seem to have a rather good ear for music. I'm going to pay close attention to that as you get older. Might we have a musical prodigy in our midsts? I think Quinn might cry if you end up denouncing all sports._

_You've actually started pulling yourself up, trying to stand. It's SO cute. You put your little bottom up in the air, but you can't quite get there. Quinn's been trying to show you, and she's getting you to use the couches and the table to help yourself up. I'll keep you posted on your progress._

_Don't you worry. You'll get there._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

It's too short.

One more.

_8 April 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_You almost stood up today, but then fell back on your bottom and looked as surprised as ever. I know it's horrible of me, but I find it so funny. I actually giggle every time, and then you look at me all confused about why I'm laughing and I feel guilty. I know you don't understand why I'm laughing but, really, Luke, I can't help it sometimes._

_Quinn was sad she missed it. She's been working really hard on this case that has her pulling several all-nighters. She reaches these points of desperation sometimes, when things just don't make sense to her. She gets a little snappy as well, but I've learned to get used to it._

_I draw the line when it comes to _you, _though. You've done nothing to deserve her foul mood._

_I definitely gave her a piece of my mind._

_Don't you worry, Luke; I'll always be here to protect you._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke doesn't like this.

Why are the letters getting so short? Did she run out of things to say to him? Didn't she want to talk to him anymore?

It takes him a moment more to realise that, everything she wanted to say to him, she was already _saying_ to him. He was born, and she spent all day talking to him. There was no need for the letters, anymore.

He's suddenly angry.

And frustrated.

He wants more.

He _needs_ more.

Luke slams the journal shut and stuffs it away, suddenly wishing he never started reading it in the first place. Why would his mother do this to him?

Why would his other mother?

Luke gets to his feet quite suddenly, needing to get away from this place as quickly as he can. His heart is twisted, and it's like he's feeling the grief all over again.

He can't remember his other mother but, when he was old enough to understand it; he still felt the loss.

He feels it every single day.

Luke leaves the cemetery, feeling unexplainably angry. This journal is different to everything else of hers he's read. This journal is _for_ him. It's not just the ramblings of a teenage girl, working her way through school and falling in love.

No, these are letters written to _him_, and they're going to end.

They're going to come to an end and he'll be forced to remember his other mother is dead, and that she'll never write another letter to him.

Suddenly, he's enraged.

He leaves with a scowl on his face, loathing the injustice of it all.

He doesn't go home.

Luke, instead, goes to his boxing gym, changes into the clothes he keeps in his assigned locker and unleashes his rage on an unsuspecting boxing bag. He knows this is something his mother sometimes does, and it's definitely therapeutic until he's forced to stop, his hands stinging and his head pounding.

Eventually, he moves to sit in the corner of the large gym, and remains perfectly still with his thoughts for goodness knows how long.

He's expelled so much energy, his body needs the time to recuperate.

His anger hasn't ceased, but he has it under better control.

When he finally feels up to moving again, Luke heads home.

He doesn't know what it is, exactly, but he has a bad feeling as he walks through the front door of the house.

There's no sound of music.

For a moment, Luke contemplates reaching for the baseball bat, but he decides against it. There's no point. He's barely set down his bag when Mia appears in the the entrance hall, her hands on her hips.

"Where have you been?" she asks pointedly, a frown set on her face.

"Umm..."

"It's ten o'clock, Luke."

He looks surprised. "It is?"

Mia is far from impressed. "I called Ryan. He says you left work early, and then I called Quinn and Beth and - " she pauses. "Where were you?"

He swallows. "I, uh, I went to visit my other mother," he eventually says.

She heaves out a tired sigh. "This isn't healthy, Luke," she says. "You can't keep doing this. It's tearing you apart. I mean, look at you. You're barely sleeping, barely eating, and you're - just, look at you!"

He just stands and stares at her.

"Is this it?" she asks pointedly. "Is this your way of telling me this isn't what you want?"

He frowns. "What are you talking about?"

"This baby; this _life_," she says. "You're so busy holding onto what you missed out on, and it's hurting you. Can't you see it? Can't you see what it's doing to you?"

"What do you want from me?" he suddenly snaps. "I _have_ to finish it, Mia. I _have_ to."

"No, you don't!" she hisses, her own frustration getting the better of her. "This isn't anything you _have_ to do, and you know it. You _want_ to do this. You want to go through all of it, because you're so damn dissatisfied with your life!"

Luke's eyes widen. "What?"

"Are you? Are you so unhappy with what you have, that you can't let go of what you lost?" she asks, calming slightly. "I mean, why do you keep searching for more than this?" She shakes her head. "And you wonder why Quinn thinks you'd rather your other mother was alive instead of her."

Luke feels like he's just been slapped.

"I don't know what it's like for you. I can't even imagine. But, I do know this, Luke: your other mother would hate that she's haunting you like this. She would absolutely _hate_ it, and you know it."

He blinks, his mouth hanging slightly ajar.

"I get this is something you need to work through and, by all means, do it, Luke, but stop acting like you're the only person who lost her, because you're not. You're not the only one who's tried to hold onto her and, maybe it's hard for you to see, but it's okay to let go."

"How do I let go of something I didn't even have?" he asks sharply, tears springing to his eyes. "I didn't get to _have_ her, Mia! How do I just let that go? How do I just forget that?"

"I don't know!" she spits back. "You just _do_, Luke."

"But, _how_?"

"You're the only one who knows the answer to that," she says, calming. "But, maybe you should start by forgiving her. Forgive her for leaving, and forgive Quinn for the burden she placed on herself to make sure she continued to give her everything she wanted long after she was gone.

"Rachel Berry-Fabray didn't ask for this. You know she would have done _everything_ in her power to stay. But, these are the cards you've been dealt. Be the strong man Quinn has raised you to be and grow from it."

That's all she's going to say.

It's all she can think to say, anyway.

So, giving him one last pointed, yet sympathetic, look, she turns on her heel and heads up the stairs. She disappears from sight before Luke can formulate another coherent thought.

Trust Mia to put him in his place.

Both his mothers would be proud.

Well, would they?

Luke sulks his way into the kitchen and scrounges for something decent to eat. He's tired and he feels defeated and, yes, he's playing the victim.

It isn't fair.

It just isn't fair.

Why can't she have lived long enough for him to know her?

Luke picks up some fresh clothes from the laundry room downstairs, and has a nice, long shower in one of the other bathrooms of the house. His mind is still reeling, but he does feel slightly better once he's done.

Quietly, he makes his way to the master bedroom. He just wants to see his wife and, to his mild surprise, she isn't asleep. He freezes in the doorway for a moment, his eyes locked on hers.

Mia says nothing, which is license enough for him to know it's safe to enter the room.

Luke slowly climbs into bed and lies perfectly still on his back, his eyes focused on the ceiling.

"Please don't be angry," he whispers.

She remains silent.

"_Tonight_," he adds. "Don't be angry with me _tonight_. Be angry again tomorrow, but not tonight."

He hears her breathing change, and then she rolls over to look at him. "Okay," she says softly.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

He rolls over so he can look at her as well. "I love you, Mia."

"I love you too, Luke Berry-Fabray." She shifts closer to him, and he automatically puts his arms around her, drawing her close to his chest.

Luke closes his eyes and lets out a slow, unsteady breath. Absently, he recalls reading his mother's words, and he finally understands the truth of them.

He'll always follow them.

_Please never go to bed angry with anyone. Never go to bed angry. We never know what can happen._

* * *

When Luke wakes on Wednesday morning, Mia's not in bed beside him. He can't hear the music, but he has a feeling he knows exactly where she is. As a musician himself, he knows how therapeutic playing one's instrument can be.

Slowly, Luke rolls out of bed and goes to the bathroom. Truth be told, he has no idea what he'll say to Mia when he sees her. Nothing in his head is sorted out. It feels as jumbled up as it did the previous night, perhaps even worse.

Luke goes down to the kitchen to get started on breakfast, and Mia joins him shortly after. They exchange a quiet greeting before sitting at the breakfast nook to eat.

It's Luke who starts their conversation. "Are you still angry?" he asks.

"I don't think I ever was," she tells him. "I just can't handle seeing you like this."

He sighs. "I'll stop reading it," he offers, though it burns his throat to say the words.

She looks at him. "That's not what you want," she says; "and I won't have you do something like that because you think it's what I want."

"Isn't it?"

"What I want is for it not to be such an obsession," she explains. "You said it yourself, didn't you? You want to read all of it, but you don't want it to end at the same time.

"I'm also sorry about the things I said last night," she adds. "I didn't mean _all_ of them. I just - I don't know... I wish you'd called."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

Mia finishes eating, and then she returns to her practice room. Luke does the dishes, packs his things for the day, bids his wife goodbye and then goes to work.

He makes a point of leaving the journal on the desk in his practice room at home. He'll deal with it when he returns from work.

That decision makes for an awfully anxious day for him. All he does is think about what he'll end up reading, but he's able to keep himself occupied enough to get through the day.

He's even able to remain fully present as he and Mia fix dinner and eat together.

Mia excuses herself first, kissing him gently, and giving him the silent permission he seeks to return to the journal.

So, he does.

Luke closes himself away in his practice room, gets himself comfortable and settles in to finish the journal.

_Tonight_.

He's going to finish it tonight.

_25th April 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_You're getting good at this whole pulling yourself up to a standing position thing. Unfortunately, your legs aren't yet strong enough to keep you up for very long, so you're keeping me very amused._

_I always wonder if your bottom hurts as much as I imagine it does. Thank goodness for those cushiony diapers then._

_You also babble a lot. I think you said your first word yesterday, but I'm not sure. It sounded a lot like 'ball' but I could be imagining things. I don't think I'll mention it to Quinn, though, because she'll probably be so heartbroken she missed it._

_The thing is, well, even though she's working locally; she spends a lot of time actually _working_. She misses a lot, and it's taking its toll on her. She's convinced she's a bad mother because she doesn't spend enough time with you._

_She's not. She's a great mother, and we love her even more because she wants to be better for us. I wish she'd realise she's the best._

_Don't you worry. I'll convince her of it._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Apparently, Quinn struggled with not being a good mother long before she was forced into doing it alone.

Luke, somehow, has to carry on what his other mother tried to do, and convince Quinn she's the best.

He just has to figure out how.

_15th May 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_So, I've got something to tell you. I've decided to go back to work. For real, this time. There are shows people have been workshopping, and I'm interested. I think it's time now. You're doing so well, and I'm ready to join the workforce again._

_Don't get me wrong. I love being your mother, and spending all day every day with you. It's just that I've always felt like I'm meant for something more, and I do good work. _

_Well, I try to do good work._

_So, I'll begin again tomorrow, starting with an audition for a show I'm not really supposed to know the name to, yet. _

_But, it's _Les Misérables_, Sweetheart._

_As for you…. We've actually hired a nanny for you. Her name is Veronica, and she's a fifty-seven year old woman with all this child-raising experience. _

_I hope you won't hate me for this decision, but it's something I have to do. I will always love you. Remember that, all right?_

_Quinn practically choked on air when I told her I was going back, but she's being very supportive. I think she's been wondering when I would go back for quite some time now, but just never brought it up. Reckon she thought I was turning into a ticking bomb again?_

_Don't you worry. I was definitely not._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke takes a breath, a small smile playing on his lips. It amazes him that she worried so much about being a bad mother.

His parents are the same that way.

_18th June 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me going back to work would be such a bad idea? I'm exhausted. I swear, I take my hat off to working mothers._

_I talked to my Dad about it and he just laughed at me. He's so mean to me, sometimes._

_I guess this is a lesson to me, wanting to do it all. It's taken a bit of adjusting, but I think I've got a handle on it now. I'm making sure to try to keep regular hours with rehearsals, so you and I have a nice routine going. _

_Quinn's work is too haphazard for that. She's constantly on call because she's one of the best agents they have._

_I mentioned to her that, once she retires, she should go to the Academy and train the incoming agents. If she can no longer _be_ the best, then she should train others to be the best. _

_All she said was that she would consider it, which is Quinn-speak for 'no, but I love you too much to say so.' We'll see how she feels when she has to spend her days washed up, and doing nothing._

_It's what I've been thinking about lately. The future; when we're both old and grey, and our kids want nothing to do with us. Promise you'll still visit us? And bring the grandkids around as often as possible?_

_Speaking of all our kids._

_Quinn did this thing tonight that surprised me. We were just sitting with you in your bedroom, and she just looked up at me and said, "I think we should have another baby."_

_So, that's something we're going to have to discuss. It took us a long time to get pregnant the first time, so we should probably start trying right now if you intend to have a sibling before you start school._

_Don't you worry. You'll always be our baby boy._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke shakes his head.

The future.

The future she'll never be a part of.

The future she'll never get the chance to see.

_4th July 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_Happy Birthday, my little man! I can't even believe you're already one year old. Where has all the time gone?_

_This has been the greatest year of my life, Luke. Between you and Quinn; you've made my life so meaningful, and so worthy. You're proof I was here, and you're the greatest legacy I could ever leave behind._

_The papers published a picture of you today. They've been trying to get one of you since you were born, constantly hounding us, so we finally decided to give them what they wanted. _

_I was a little uncomfortable with it, but they've promised to leave us alone now. Now, everyone is going to know how cute you are._

_So, we held a little party for you here at the house. I think you enjoy being the centre of attention a little too much. That smile of yours is just too infectious._

_The cake was a mess, of course. It got everywhere, as was expected. I've spent the last half hour trying to get icing out of your hair. Bath time has always been an exciting time for us. You hate when you have to get into the bath, but then you cry bloody murder when it's time to get out. You confuse me sometimes._

_Don't you worry, though; I'm looking forward to a lifetime of confusion._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke makes a mental note to find out if anyone has a copy of any of those papers. If Quinn claims to keep things; maybe she's kept all those papers as well.

Well, he could probably find them online, if he went looking.

_1st August 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_If I didn't love Quinn so much, I definitely would kill her for what she did to me today. Honestly. Why oh why would she decide to bring out the prankster in her all of a sudden?_

_Well, it's not really all of a sudden._

_We kind of had this bet, that I lost, and she's used it as licence to terrorise me._

_Firstly, and please never do this, she painted our soap with clear nail polish and left it in the shower._

_Secondly, she bought me these 'cream-filled donuts,' which were actually filled with mayonnaise. (Did I mention I didn't actually return to my veganism lifestyle after you were born? No? That was probably by design. I feel awful about it, but I just love cheese and chocolate and chicken waffles.)_

_Thirdly, the coffee beans in our maker were switched out with pepper corns. I swear, I almost killed her. She was playing with fire at that point. I love my morning coffee._

_And then she made sure my dressing room was completely filled with colourful balloons! It looked kind of nice, actually, but it was still extremely annoying._

_She definitely had a little too much fun today._

_But don't you worry. I'll get her back._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke laughs to himself.

His mother definitely played with fire - he wouldn't dare dream of messing with Mia's morning coffee - and Luke makes another mental note to ask Quinn if his other mother did end up retaliating in some way.

_15th September 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_You're a little speed demon, you know? I can't keep up with you. You just can't sit still, and it's making me a little crazy. I really miss being able to just set you down, surround you with pillows, and know that you'll stay there while I pop into the bathroom._

_But no, not anymore._

_The moment I put you down somewhere, you run off. Yes, Luke, you RUN. Maybe you'll actually end up being good at this whole soccer thing._

_I also haven't been feeling hundred percent the past few days. I'm not sure what it is, but I'll keep you posted on what's going on._

_Don't you worry, sweetheart; I'm sure it's nothing._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke frowns.

She got sick?

That's not how he was told she passed.

He has to read on, but every new word he reads merely raises his anxiety. The second he spies the date, he knows they're coming close to the end.

Dangerously close.

They're there.

_21st October 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_Honey, I have a secret to tell you. I haven't even told Quinn yet, so you'll be the first to know. I'm thrilled about it, and terrified at the same time. Can you guess? It's the reason I was feeling so unwell._

_I'm pregnant! We're having another baby! You're going to be a big brother. Will you be a good big brother? I'm sure you will be._

_After Quinn expressed her desire for another baby, we decided to try. I honestly expected we'd be trying for months like the last time. It wasn't supposed to happen this quickly. It took a while with you, but this one has gone much quicker, which is not what I was anticipating. I keep thinking about the show, and about how young you still are, but I can't bring myself not to be completely ecstatic about this._

_If I'm being honest, I wasn't sure I wanted us to have our kids so close together, but this is still so amazing. I'm not sure how Quinn's going to handle the news, because I get the feeling she's almost forgotten about it. It was kind of a monthly routine when we were trying for you, and we've literally fallen pregnant at our first try, this time. This kid is desperate to enter this world, huh?_

_We're handling one of you quite well. I wonder what it will be like with two; going from outnumbering you to man-to-man._

_Or... Could these be the twins my Dad warned me about? Then, we would be the ones who are outnumbered._

_No. I don't think so. I have a feeling we'll have a girl this time. She feels like a girl. I don't know what it is, but it's just something I feel. Like, with you being a boy, I just know this one is a girl._

_I've already been thinking about a name, but I'll definitely have to discuss it with Quinn. How does Charlotte Lily sound? It's a good, strong name, with good consonance._

Oh, that's why Quinn was so ready with a response when he asked.

_We'll have to figure out a way to tell Quinn, though. Do you think she'll cry again? I don't doubt it. I'm thinking I'll buy you an outfit that says 'World's Best Big Brother.' Yes! That's an idea. You'll be the one to tell her. It'll sound better coming from you._

_Don't you worry. I'm sure she'll be thrilled._

_Love,  
__Your Mother_

Luke blinks back tears. She was pregnant. Not only did Quinn lose her wife; she also lost her unborn child.

Oh, Quinn.

Luke immediately turns the page for the next letter, but the page is empty.

His heart drops.

He just read the last letter.

Luke stares at the empty pages, his heart rate rising dangerously. No. No. It can't be over. This can't be it.

There has to be more.

There _has_ to be.

He's not ready for it to be over.

Knowing it will be futile, Luke starts to page through the empty sheets, searching for more; _needing_ more.

His heart literally stops when he spies more writing.

Different writing.

_15th December 2023_

_Dear Luke_

_It's Quinn here._

Luke blinks back his surprise, his heart breaking in the process.

His mother.

_Something terrible happened, Sweetheart._

_I've thought hard and long about how I would tell you, and how I would explain to you how or why this happened, but I haven't yet come up with the right words. This is all so hard, and telling you is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do._

_She's gone, Luke. Your Mother's gone. I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry._

_There was an accident. She got hurt on her way to lunch with Kurt and there was an accident. There was a car, Luke, and it lost control. There were no survivors. I don't have anyone to blame._

_They say she didn't feel any pain at all. I want to believe it's true, because it's the only thing that can help me sleep at night. I keep thinking it's all just a bad dream, but it's not. I'm forced to remember that it's not._

_On 18 November 2023, Rachel Barbra Berry-Fabray stepped out into the world for the last time._

_I never got to kiss her goodbye._

_This was never supposed to happen, Sweetheart. This was never how it was supposed to be for us. We had our entire lives planned. We had so much life to live._

_I am so sorry._

Luke spies an old teardrop on the page, smudging the ink, and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

_I loved her so much that I don't even know how to explain to you just how much. We were supposed to have forever. We fought so hard for a forever, and I feel robbed. We were both robbed of such a wonderful, loving, devoted woman, whose greatest fault was probably choosing to love someone like me._

_I loved her so much that I hate her for leaving me when she did; for leaving _us_ the way she did._

_I don't know how to do this. How am I supposed to do this all without her? I don't know how to live without her._

_But I'm going to have to figure it out. For you. She'd want you to live a full and happy life, and I intend to give her everything she wanted._

_I didn't know how scared she was of the work I did. I didn't know how much she missed me when I was gone. I had an idea, but never this. If I'd known, I would have quit it all. Her happiness has always been the most important thing to me._

_It still is. Which is why I intend to make sure I carry out everything she's ever wanted for you. You are going to live a happy life, my sweet boy. I promise to do all I can to be the best mother I can be. A mother you can be proud of._

_You are so loved, Luke. Please, whatever I do; however I might fail you - which I'll undoubtedly do, because I'm not perfect - always remember this. You are loved._

_Your mother loved you very much, and please never blame her for leaving us. If she had the choice, she would have stayed. It's taken me a while to come to terms with that, and I suspect you'll struggle with it as well, but we have to forgive her. _

_Love her, and honour her without stopping to live our own lives._

_I'll always be here for you. I'll do everything in my power to ensure you don't end up an orphan. It's the last thing I want for you. Believe me._

_Don't you worry, my dear Luke; Mommy will take care of you._

_Love,  
__Quinn _

Luke cried from the letters before, but he's positively sobbing now.

His entire body is shaking from the intensity of his emotions, and it takes almost five minutes for him to calm.

It hurts.

_He_ hurts.

And, as Luke sits there, tears streaming from his eyes... it starts to come to him.

It's only a few lines at first, but it's so dominant in his mind that he jumps up and practically leaps to the piano, stumbling over his own feet.

He has to play it; he has to _hear_ it.

It's beautiful and perfect, and it's not inspired by his unborn baby.

Nor by his other mother.

It's inspired by Quinn.

By his mother's _heart_.

He remembers his comment earlier in the week, and he hates himself for it. _What heart?_ How can he ever think his mother doesn't care?

Quinn's heart is _red and_ gold, and Luke wants the entire world to know it.

Luke plays the few lines in his head a few times over, adjusting a few notes, before he makes sure to get it all written down.

And, the moment his pencil starts on the paper, more and more of it comes to him.

Part of Luke's process is that he starts with the base as the piano, and then works his way through the strings all the way through the orchestra to the brass instruments.

He can't stop.

* * *

When Mia finds him in the morning, he's sprawled out on his floor, dozens of sheets of music surrounding him. It's not the first time she's found him like this, but it's the first time since she told him about the baby.

"Luke?" she calls lightly, breaking into the little world he's made for himself.

He looks up suddenly, his eyes red from the intensity of his concentration and his obvious lack of sleep. "Hey, you," he croaks as he rolls over and sits up.

"You look inspired," she comments.

"I am."

"The baby?"

He shakes his head.

"Your other mother?"

He shakes his head again. "Quinn."

She smiles. "Can I hear some?"

He immediately gets to his feet, and moves towards her. He kisses her cheek, takes hold of her hand and leads her towards the piano. "I was hit with the bridge first," he explains as he settles on the bench. "I read the last letter, and I just - I _had_ to play."

Mia sits beside him at the piano, and waits for him to continue.

"My mom wrote the last letter," he says. "After she was gone. My mom found the journal, and wrote the last letter to me, and she promised to do all that she could to make sure I grew up the way my other mother wanted; the way she would be proud of. Even when she was gone, Quinn still did everything she wanted.

"_Everything_."

And, then, he starts to play.

To Mia, it sounds like magic.

It _feels_ like magic.

And, really, it feels like Quinn as well.

When he stops quite suddenly, he frowns. "I'm still working on it, though. The climax of it all doesn't seem to want to end. I don't know how to bring it back down."

Mia can't help her smile. He doesn't even know how much meaning that sentence holds when it comes to who Quinn is as a person.

"It's perfect, Luke," Mia says. "And, don't you worry. It will come to you."

His eyes snaps towards her. "What did you just say?"

She leans back slightly. "What?"

He blinks. "Nothing. Sorry. I'm just tired."

She puts a hand on his back. "Maybe you should get some rest," she offers. "Are you going in today?"

He sighs. "I think I'll stay home, but I'm sure Ryan will be keen to know I've come up with something."

"You intend to use this piece in the concert?"

He nods.

"Well, I think it's wonderful," she says, her hand moving to run through his hair. "But, maybe you should, you know, get it written down properly."

"What?"

She gestures to the mess in the room. "It's like a tornado hit this room."

"It's part of my artistic process."

She kisses his cheek. "I'm going to make breakfast, all right?"

Luke just nods, and then watches her leave the room.

For a moment, he doesn't move. So much has happened in these few days. He's learned so much about his parents; it's all still so overwhelming.

He wouldn't give it up for anything.

* * *

After they've eaten, Luke goes up to their bedroom to shower and catch a nap.

When he wakes, he does as Mia instructed and proceeds to write out all the music as clearly as he can. It isn't a particularly long piece, close to half an hour long. He spends quite a bit of time working on where the percussion instruments fit in.

With the part he's struggling with, Luke rereads the letter his mother wrote.

The entire piece comes together shortly after that. It isn't perfect yet. He's sure he'll end up changing things along the way, especially when it comes to rehearsals.

When he's done, Luke packs up the sheet music in his shoulder bag, makes himself a sandwich - just to appease his wife - and then makes his way to work.

He has to give the music to Ryan right away.

It feels good to be excited about it once more.

It's already after four o'clock by the time Luke arrives, but he finds Ryan in his office. The man looks surprised to see him, which quickly fades away when Luke hands over the music.

Between the two of them, they work out the logistics of the piece until Luke's fingers are black from the graphite of his pencil.

"I think this is your best work, Luke," Ryan comments, looking through the sheets one last time.

"Really?"

Ryan nods. "The best," he repeats. "But, does it have a name?"

"Yes, yes it does." Luke reaches across the desk and takes the front sheet from Ryan. He scribbles the name on the top of the page and hands it back.

Ryan regards it for a moment before he looks at Luke. "You're sure?"

He nods. "Positive."

"All right then," he says. "I'll have Sal type it up, and you'll proof. It should be ready in time to play in the concert."

Luke just nods before he gets to his feet. He feels calmer than he's felt in days. His mind is clear and it doesn't feel like something heavy is pressing down on him anymore.

Luke arrives at the Berry-Fabray house quite late, and he worries if Mia's going to be as irritated with him as she was the other night. He follows the sounds towards the kitchen but, as soon as he opens the door to the kitchen, he freezes.

"Mom!" Luke exclaims.

Quinn is standing over the stove, a metal spoon held in her hand. "Oh, hey, kiddo," she says, grinning at her son.

"What are you doing here?" Luke asks, frowning.

"I told you he forgot," another voice says.

Luke watches his wife emerge from the pantry, a tray of eggs in her hands.

"It's Thursday, Luke," Mia says.

He blinks. "Thursday...?"

Quinn glances at Mia. "Wait for it..."

Mia catches the moment Luke remembers why his mother would be here tonight and she can't help her laugh.

"Oh! Dinner!" Luke's eyes widen. "I'm so late, aren't I?"

"That's all right," Quinn says, shrugging. "Amelia and I usually have a better time without you, anyway."

Luke laughs. He actually laughs out loud, almost uncontrollably, which makes his wife and mother exchange a worried look.

"Luke?" Quinn asks, looking concerned. "Is everything all right?"

He stops laughing quite suddenly. "Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I talk to you?" he asks quietly.

Quinn glances at Mia for a moment, before she nods at her son. "Umm, Amelia, do you mind watching the stove?"

"I think I can handle it," she says, ushering them away.

Quinn gives her a small smile before she follows her son out of the kitchen and all the way to the practice room. It took Quinn almost a year after her wife's death to work up the courage to enter it, and she can't hold back her gasp at the sight of the piano.

Luke looks at his mother, worry in his eyes. "We can go somewhere else," he offers.

"No," Quinn says, letting out a brief chuckle. "Just haven't seen it in a while. How's it treating you?"

"Well," Luke says. "Very well, actually."

"That's good," Quinn comments, moving towards the couch and taking a seat. "So, you wanted to talk?"

"I suspect Mia's spoken to you already?"

"She may have mentioned a few things," Quinn says casually.

Luke moves towards his small desk and retrieves the journal. "I finished reading it," he says, holding it up. "All of it."

"Oh?"

Luke moves to sit on the other end of the couch. "You never told me about Charlotte," he says gently.

Quinn wrings her fingers together. "I didn't know until I read that," she confesses, breaking Luke's heart once more. "I didn't know a lot of things, apparently."

Luke remains silent as he tries to gather his own thoughts. Then: "Was it everything you ever wanted?"

"What?"

"Your life?"

"What I wanted and what I got are two very different things," Quinn says. "I'm not ashamed to admit that. But, what I do know is that the things that happen to us shape us in ways we'll never truly understand or appreciate.

"Am I happy with my life as it is? Most of the time, yes, I suppose I am. Many people have been lost to me but, every day, I thank my lucky stars you're not one of them. That's all I can do to keep going."

Luke takes a deep breath. "You were wrong, by the way."

Quinn raises an eyebrow. "About what? Because, I've been known to be wrong about quite a few things in my lifetime."

"I don't wish she were here _instead_ of you," Luke says seriously. "I won't lie and say I've _never_ thought it, but I don't think it now. I don't think I ever will again."

Quinn just stares at her son with wide, hazel eyes.

"I hate that you think it, Mom," Luke continues. "You're a great mother. I admit you're not perfect, but who is? What I do know is that you've done and continue to do all you can to raise me right and I hope I make you proud."

"You do."

Luke offers her an appreciative smile. "So, I want you to know I definitely don't think it, and I think you should stop thinking it, too. I know you've tortured yourself with this, but I think I understand her a little better now and I can tell you this: she wouldn't want to be here _instead_ of you, either."

Quinn blinks.

"She'd hate life without you, and she'd probably torture herself more than you have. She'd spend her days alone, dedicating her time and life to everyone but herself."

Quinn's eyes widen. "What?" she almost snaps. "I wouldn't want that for her."

"You wouldn't?"

Quinn pauses, and then her face breaks out into a smile. "Ah, I see what you did there."

Luke laughs lightly.

"I'm not _un_happy, Luke."

"I know," he says, his smile fading. "I just wish you were _happy_."

Quinn waits a beat before responding. "This is a different kind of happy," she eventually says. "Not the same as the happiness I had with your mother, but I've never regretted anything I've done that came after she was gone."

"I know."

"Good."

Luke smiles, signifying the end of all that morbid talk. "I wrote a new piece last night. Do you want to hear it?"

"Of course."

Luke gets to his feet and moves towards the piano. He can feel his mother's eyes on him as he sits on the bench and lifts his hands.

From the moment Luke first started to play, his mother attended every recital and every concert. He's never really stopped to acknowledge her support throughout his entire career, and he makes a mental note to thank her properly for always believing in his talent.

"What's it called?" Quinn asks.

Luke smiles at her. "It's called _Quinn's Heart_."

And, then, he starts to play, saving his mother from a response.

As Luke plays and reaches some place in the middle, he becomes aware of Quinn standing and coming to stand behind him. He feels her hands on his shoulder, and then a kiss on the top of his head.

"It's beautiful, Luke. Thank you," Quinn whispers, and Luke can hear the tears in her voice. "I think I'm going to help Amelia with dinner."

Luke knows she just doesn't want him to see her cry.

He understands.

There are still so many things he doesn't know about Quinn Berry-Fabray but, somehow, through the help of his other mother, Luke feels as if he finally _understands_ her.

Well, parts of her.

The important parts.

He continues to play for a few minutes before he draws the piece to a premature end, his own eyes misting up. It really is some of his best work, even if he's convinced his best work is yet to come.

Luke sits in silence for a moment, before he makes an important decision.

A beat later, he rises to his feet and crosses the room. He reaches for one of the empty journals he keeps in a pile on one of the shelves against the far wall. It's red in colour, with touches of gold, and it's perfect for this purpose.

He locates a pen, moves to sit at his desk, opens the journal, and begins to write.

_20th May 2049_

_Dear Baby Berry-Fabray_

Luke pauses to think. He isn't yet sure what exactly he's going to say in this first letter yet, but he does know how he's going to end it; how he'll _always_ end it.

_Don't you worry._

If there's anything he's learned in the past few days, it's that he might have one alive parent, but he's really been raised by two.

He's his mothers' son.

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
